Lie Smith and Incantation Fetter
by lokiandsigyn
Summary: A story of the tumultuous love between Loki - God of Mischief  and Sigyn - the woman who would be faithful to him.  Though it is set in the Marvel movie verse we are also pulling from myth and the comics. The rating may rise in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

If there was any single thought to which the myriad of swirling concepts that filled the mind of Loki, Prince of Asgard and son of Odin, it might have been 'why must I suffer this indignity?'

Only that morning, he had been called to Father's presence. He had not known at the time what Odin had wished to talk about but Loki had presumed that it would be some matter of state that he wished his son to observe or an opportunity to display the sharpness of his wits. When he had entered the throne room, it had been empty aside from Father's familiar figure and Loki had dared to hope that it was a chance to, perhaps, discuss matters with Odin alone or, perhaps, to learn some lesson that his father saw fit to give to him and not to Thor. He should have known better although, in one respect, he had proven himself quite correct. It had been a lesson for him alone and not for Thor.

In the Allfather's perfect judgement, he had determined that it was time for the younger son to take a bride. It took no great wit and certainly not the sharp mind that Fate had gifted to Loki to see just why Thor had not been granted this great honour. However, in this one instance, he would not have objected to allowing his brother the chance to be the first – or, preferably the last – to be so honoured. Loki had no wish to be wedded to any of the highborn ladies of Asgard. There was Sif, perhaps, but he did not plan on enduring her sharp tongue for all time. Beyond her, there was Amora or Skadi, but neither would he court nor would they suffer his suit should he press it.

No... Perhaps Thor would be satisfied with an empty headed blonde woman, who thought of nothing more than weaving and knew no more of sorcery or Loki's other pleasures than they did of war. Loki would not. And yet, unless he could find a way to squirm out of Father's command, that would be his fate. Naturally, Loki had done his utmost to persuade Odin that he was not ready for marriage as it was, as he was. He had used the most persuasive arguments that he could call upon, but Father had refused to relent. It was time he said that his son wed, as he had. Normally, Loki would have taken that as a victory in his war to be Odin's favoured son, but he was too... discomposed to take even that solace.

That had been the course of events that led him to his current state. Garbed in his usual robes of green and black, Loki had swept silently through the halls of the Realm Eternal, his destination the chambers of the one person he hoped might be able to persuade Father otherwise – Frigga. His mother. That was how he justified it to himself, at least, because the notion that his reaction to this had been to run to Mother was not one he wished Thor or any of the others to learn. He would never hear the end of it from his brother, or his friends. No, Mother was his best hope of persuading Father to change his mind and that was all. If this failed, he would find another way of solving his problem.

As he approached, the two soldiers standing to either side straightened to attention, before swinging the twin doors open to allow him entrance. "Mother," Loki greeted, softly as was his want, his expression neutral, reflecting nothing of his thoughts. "May I ask for a little of your counsel?"

* * *

><p>Though she had not been expecting her younger son's arrival, it had not come as much of a surprise. She and Odin had long discussed the topic of their sons' marriages, debating the issue of what to do with Thor and Loki. Both of her sons posed different challenges when it came to the subject, but Loki with his quiet and sometimes mischievous ways had caused Frigga to worry the most. She did not think he would take so kindly to the news, and while Thor would still probably refuse any kind of push towards marriage, Frigga worried Loki would just resent it.<p>

Yet, if he did understand why the decision had to be made, then she knew it would be good for him. She knew he was often by himself, alienated from Thor and his friends just by nature alone. He preferred his knowledge and his sorcery to their brawling and hunting, and that left him somewhat of the outcast and caused his mother to worry for him. A woman would be good for him, if he could find solace with her. A wife would be a companion; there to bring him out of his quiet and provide him with what he needed without his having to follow Thor into troubles he did not seek. She firmly believed a wife would be good for her younger son, if only he would open himself up to the idea.

He gave no outward signs of distress when he entered, his face calm, controlled and neutral as it normally was. She smiled softly at him, nodded so the women that had been sewing with her would know to leave so he could speak in confidence. Only one dark haired girl stayed, quietly working on her project and acting as if she were not there. Frigga glanced her direction for a moment; used to Sigyn's constant presence, though she was not normally focusing so much on her work that it seemed she would wish to disappear, before turning her soft gaze back to her son. She would worry about her handmaiden's discomfort once her son was satisfied with her counsel.

"What troubles you, Loki?" she asked in a soft, comforting tone.

* * *

><p>Loki paused as Mother smiled at him, waiting at the threshold as she motioned for the women – girls – who attended her to leave them. His eyes swept over them one by one, dismissing each in her turn as just as unworthy as the next. Each was yet another example of Asgardian 'womanhood', each interested in nothing more than the gossip they shared and the weaving set before them. If this was what his father expected... no... intended for him to wed, then Loki was sorely tempted to cast himself off the Bifrost and save himself from the fate awaiting him. Well, an illusion of himself at the least. There was no chance that Loki Odinson would end himself over anything as petty as empty headed women. No... he would not give them the satisfaction.<p>

Say what he would about them, but they were well trained dogs, obedient to their master's will. It took mere seconds before they had cleared the room, leaving Loki and his mother alone at last. Well, all but alone, he conceded silently in his mind, having readily marked the lone handmaid still at her stool, head bowed over whatever little web she was weaving. But, beyond the bare fact of her existence, he did not give her a thought. There was always one of them at Mother's side, her guardian from sorcerers and poisoners just as the guards outside protected her from more mundane threats such as cold steel. Loki, a master of sorcery himself, barely noticed them anymore. After all, he loved Mother dearly, just as much as he loved Father, and he could not see any future where he would wish either harm. But, should he wish them dead, no girl-child fresh from the school of sorcery would stop him. Still, tradition was tradition and tradition in Asgard was almost as binding as law or the will of Odin Allfather.

Loki was shaken from his dark thoughts as Mother asked softly what troubled him and his eyes snapped back to her. Normally, at this point, he would have taken a seat, but the younger Prince preferred to stand this time, although he resisted the urge to pace up and down. Instead, he took several steps closer, his head slightly bowed, keeping his eyes on Frigga as he approached. "It's Father," he began, and then was forced to pause as emotion twisted in his chest.

Loki took a deep breath, his lips curling down slightly, hurt flashing across his features for an instant before he reasserted his control. "In his infinite wisdom, he has decided that it is time for me to... marry." From another, such words could only sound sarcastic but Loki meant every word – so far as he was concerned, Odin was wise and often knew what was best for his sons and his kingdom alike. This was the first time he had had cause to question that in his own mind.

"I had hoped that you would be able to persuade him to..." he paused, as if searching for words. "Change his mind." Hope flickered in his dark eyes.

* * *

><p>It wasn't difficult for her to tell that her son was deeply troubled, having learned to distinguish his mannerisms a long time ago. To the untrained eye, he would have seemed the normal Loki, but she knew by the way he held himself that there was trouble in his mind. He did not take a seat and his eyes did not leave her face, as if he were searching for answers there before even speaking a word.<p>

It was only when he started to speak that she saw the real emotion break across his face. He paused, breathed deeply and smoothed the hurt away but she had seen it. There was no need for him to feel such turmoil over the idea of marriage, but then with Loki it always went deeper than the issue on the surface. She did not know what was really flashing through his mind, and she was aware that she more than likely never would. She would just trust her son to tell her what he needed help with and she would do her best for him, as she had always done.

She stood as he spoke, cut the distance between them so she was only an arms length away. She saw the hope in his eyes, and she wanted to tell him she would talk to his Father. She wanted to tell him it would all be alright and that he could just go back to his library and his solitude and she would handle anything that was troubling him, as if he were still a little boy. Yet, she knew she could not do that. Loki was a man, and as a man he had responsibilities to Asgard and to himself.

"Loki, there is wisdom in this. There is wisdom in a match. Your Father would not make the decision lightly, nor would I stand by it if he had. Where do your reservations come from, if you wish your Father swayed?"

She had her guesses. Loki himself had not chosen the path, and therefore would try to make it work on his own terms. It may come from Thor, if Loki had spoken to his brother, but she did not know if that was the case. She just knew the pain she saw in his face, and the hopefully look in his eyes as he had asked for her help had torn at her heart, when she knew she would not be helping him in this except to guide him in his choice.

* * *

><p>Loki readily marked the manner in which Mother stood as he spoke, that alone sending a stabbing sense of disappointment flickering through his body. He would never admit it, not to himself let alone to anyone else in all the world, but his first instinct had brought him running to his Mother, seeking for her to make everything right again, just as she had in his younger years when she had smoothed away his hurt and his pain so many times. Thor might have been independent from a young age, but Loki had always sought the approval of both of his parents in equal measure. He had often sought the company of one or the other, knowing that they would not shun him as almost all others did – save Thor, but Thor was all too often to be found in the company of his 'friends' and he could only stand the scorn they showed him for so long.<p>

Now, stood before Frigga, less than an arm's length apart, Loki's eyes flickered with hurt again. He was too wise and too knowing to miss the signals and he silently cursed the instinct that had brought him here. However, he was committed now and he smoothed the emotion away before it could be seen. Still, he could not help the slight stiffening of his body nor the sense that he had already lost. Of course Father had spoken to Mother beforehand. His sole ally, gone before he had a chance. But he was a Prince. His chin rose slightly, preparing for the verbal blow he thoroughly expected to follow. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he had misjudged the signals. Perhaps he could still hope...?

Cautiously, Loki listened to his mother's words, his eyes searching hers for whatever emotions she might have. He had already forgotten that they were not alone, the lone handmaiden lost in the sheer wrongness of the situation, the urge to simply shriek out that he was not ready, that he knew of no woman he wished to marry, that he did not see why he should be the one to surrender his freedom while Thor and his friends ran amuck all across the nine worlds on one useless, futile, childish jaunt after the other. But he kept his bitterness bottled inside of him, letting the reasonable words of Mother wash over him, knowing that he had no chance of convincing either with spite – but perhaps with patience and words.

Of course, his instinct was to dissemble, to hide his real motives. But he knew that would be a mistake. Truth was his greatest weapon here and he planned to wield it as a dagger, insofar as he dared. But Loki could not hide the hurt and pain that filled him. "Mother, I..." he paused. "I do not feel the time is yet right for me to take a wife. Nor do those who Father named fill me with great longing for the state of matrimony. If I must take a wife, why can it not be in the fullness of time when I have found a woman who I wish to marry – in my own time for my own reasons?"

* * *

><p>"Loki," she said fondly, hearing the reason in his voice and knowing he was using much self-control in this. He was a quiet child, a quiet man, but when his emotions ran high they would break free and then he was not easy to deal with. She was glad he was tempering them for now, and gently she reached out and pulled him into a hug, "This is not meant to be something you are forced into or something you are not ready for. This is no punishment. I know you are ready for this step in your life, and I know you will find happiness in it. You will not be forced into marriage with a woman you do not for, as if it were a prison. That I will not allow."<p>

Though her words were soft, she hoped he heard the assurance and determination behind them. Despite any woman Odin thought a good match, the choice would go to Loki and Loki alone. He would be content in his choice, even if he felt they were rushing him towards it.

Marriage was not something she felt one could truly be ready to face, since it was made up of the unknown. It was his strength, his adaptability, and his maturity that Frigga saw as the marks of a man fully grown, and that was part of the reason her younger son was approached first with the subject. Though Thor was older, he still acted as if he was a rash child, and that was not a mark of a man ready to be with a woman. She wondered if Odin had explained that to their youngest son, thinking he would find solace in the fact that he was being trusted with this, rather than punished.

She stepped back again, letting him free from her arms, "There is no punishment or shame in this. It is a mark of your strengths. Now, come sit," she said, taking him by the arm and guiding him to a chair where she pushed him down gently. It was not an end to the conversation, but he was not going to sway her in this decision. She would rather they discuss his options than the futile hope that he seemed to have that this would not occur.

Taking her seat across from him, she gave him another fond smile, "Tell me what maidens your Father suggested to you, and perhaps we shall find in that more likeable options."

* * *

><p>At the sound of Mother's voice, Loki's hope flared anew, something in her tone persuading him that his appeal had reached her. There was fondness present, and he dared to believe that perhaps this would not end with his freedom torn from him and his days spend lashed to a foolish woman that he had no wish to even grace with a moment of his time. That hope burnt stronger as Mother pulled him into an embrace, which he relaxed into, certain now that he was about to be assured that all would be well, that he would be able to return to his life as it was and as it should be.<p>

As ever, though, his hopes were destined to be disappointed. Mother assured him that it was not something he was meant to be forced into, that it was not a punishment of any sort. But it was. It was a chain set around his neck, a weight that bound him down to earth when he would rather soar above it. Admittedly, he listened quietly to Mother's words with all of the respect that he had for both his parents, but nothing she had to say was what he wanted to hear. His shoulders stiffened and he stood, tensed, with her arms around him. That was, at least, until the end, when she assured him that he would not be forced into a prison, that she would not allow it. Then Loki embraced Frigga in return, resting his head on her shoulder and wishing in his heart that it was as simple as her wiping all of this away.

Cold reality returned soon enough however. It was tempting, again, to declare that it was a punishment, to act the child in the hopes that it would persuade them that he was not ready, but Loki knew his parents too well. If he did that, then he would be forced into a marriage he did not want with a woman he did not know and that would be the last choice he would want. No, he had to be calm and reasoned, as much as he wanted to scream. So he remained silent, thoughtful, until Mother released him from her arms, assuring him that it was a mark of his strength that he had been chosen. Loki could not help but take that as her praising him above Thor and his head rose a touch, assuming its more familiar posture for the moment before he was guided into a chair and his mother resumed her seat opposite.

But he scowled darkly as Mother asked which maidens Father had suggested. That had, perhaps, been the part of the conversation he liked the least, and Loki wished he could stand and pace as the memories returned. "'Lady' Sif," the Prince sneered, despite himself, "As if she would ever pay attention to me when Thor remains unwedded. Nor would I want to subject myself to her barbs when her tongue is as sharp as her blade." What had possessed Father to suggest that match would never make sense to Loki. "Then Amora, and while I prize her as a friend, I would not wish to marry her for I do not love her." He named two more, Asgardian maidens both, but they lacked any features that would make them suited for marriage to him, before he shook his head. "'More likeable options', Mother? There are none, I am afraid."

He was resisting to her embrace, and that did warn her that he was going to be resistant to everything she said. If there was one thing her son's had in common it was their stubbornness. Once a thought had gotten into their heads it was all one could do to dislodge it, but she knew that Loki was fighting a losing battle. She just reminded herself it was good for him, and she was calmed when he had hugged her back.

* * *

><p>The tenseness returned as he sat down, and she felt he was almost like an animal trapped in a cage yet ready to spring. He wanted to be up and about, moving throughout her rooms or running as far from these halls as he could. She remembered well the fear, but she had not been so opposed to marriage. It had been an honor, but then she had not been raised a Prince of the realm with all the freedom she could imagine. Her sons enjoyed freedoms beyond any most would know, and for that they were lucky.<p>

Yet now, it made it harder for them to understand their obligations, as was present in Loki's refusal to even think of the idea. If pressed, he would probably say he had thought and thought about it, but the truth was he had probably let the image flash through his mind, formed this terrible opinion of being held down, and not allowed a moment of good into that image.

His distaste was amplified by Odin's words, she was sure. She prevented the grimace from crossing her face as Loki pronounced Sif's name, but that was not a name she would have called upon when speaking to her younger son. Sif was beautiful, compassionate and skilled, but there was little love between her and Loki. After all they had done to each other it was a wonder they could even remain in the same room together, and she could easily imagine why Loki was immediately averse to the situation. Truthfully she was shocked just that name hadn't caused Loki's shouting to be heard all the way in her chambers. Amora was a better choice, one she had discussed with Odin. The blonde woman was a friend to Loki, and though she had not seen true evidence of affection beyond that she had thought maybe her son had just kept it hidden.

She just knew there had to be someone that had caught his eye. Even in his words she heard that something was being held back, and she was not sure if it was just by petulant choice at being guided in this situation or if he was embarrassed to say, but she would get him to speak to her about it whether he wanted to or not.

"You mean to tell me that in all of Asgard there is not a woman who has ever caught my son's eye. I am your Mother, Loki. I will not be deceived by you," she smiled at him, kept her tone warm and lightly teasing so that he would not feel like he was being attacked, "Now, tell me so that I may help you in all of this. Make me your ally."

* * *

><p>From the moment he had entered the room, Sigyn had wanted to melt away into the shadows, already uncomfortable at the idea of overhearing her Queen's private conversations even if it was something she had done for years. She knew secrets that she had never wanted to know, and though at times it was endearing to see the Queen with her son's there were arguments and conversations one should never be privy to. This was only amplified by the dark haired girl's affection for the younger Prince, though she would never utter a word.<p>

Most of the time she found she did not even think of him. It was not like with other girls, where they yammered of the men they found attractive every moment they could spare. She was a more reserved woman by nature, but even if she had been inclined to share her thoughts they were normally not on the men of Asgard. She had more important things to think of, her education never finished though she had gone through all of her schooling in sorcery. When her Queen did not need her, she found herself in the library, finding the quiet more comforting than the women she had long ignored since she was a young child.

They were foolish, with little vision and little wit, and she wanted to think herself above their company, and then Loki would enter the room and she found her face going hot and her heart beating slightly faster. She would force herself to look away, or she would find herself engrossed in the fine angles of his features or the way his eyes lit up when someone was able to pull a rare smile from him. She had long ago memorized the details, when she was young enough not to care so much for appearances.

It had been easier then to be so engrossed in him, when he was charged with tutoring her in the magic arts. Then she could spend her afternoons with him on occasion, when he would come to her, and in that soft, patient manner of his he would tell her what she needed to change or teach her how to hold her hands. It was never anything too significant, and he had more than likely forgotten her existence, but in those early years she had formed a bond with him that she had not been able to dispel no matter how she told herself she would be happier.

So when he entered his mother's chambers she had wanted to run away with the rest of the girls, and after he had begun to speak she had wanted to go deaf, to never hear the words that were softly spoken between mother and son. She had never thought her feelings would come to anything, but she had not wanted to face the idea of his matrimony while hiding in the corner trying not to look at either Frigga or Loki while also battling back the girlish tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks at the sheer surprise of it all. She bit her lip and breathed deeply; careful not to make a sound while they spoke. If she just focused, this conversation would be done and she would get through it and be able to leave and cry in peace in her own room, woefully bemoaning a fate she was not destined to see. It was just this conversation and then she could beg away with a headache, and the Queen would understand enough to let her go.

Yet, as they spoke of the women he could have interest in she found herself glancing towards them, careful not to catch his eye but entirely curious in what his answers would be. The Lady Sif, though generally kind to Sigyn if they met, was an almost laughable choice when thinking of Loki. Amora would not have a man who was not shining and golden and named Thor, and the others were equally unsuitable. She was torn between relieved that he found no women suitable for marriage and terribly sad that she was among those he scorned. There were so many emotions rushing through her that she had forgotten her sewing in her lap, instead interestedly watching the exchange.

* * *

><p>It was very hard, indeed impossible for Loki to see how this was an 'honour' being bestowed upon him. It was the loss of freedom, it was the imposition of someone in his life that he was certain he did not wish to be there. Yes, he understood that his life as a Prince of Asgard came with duties and responsibilities and many of both. But it was all too easy for him to see Thor being allowed to escape those same duties and responsibilities time and again and to question why he was being forced into this cage. If one were to hear his thoughts on his brother, one might easily believe that Loki hated Thor. Nothing could be further from the truth. Except in one particular matter, he wished his brother nothing but good health and every blessing that accompanied it.<p>

Save that one matter.

Of course, now another looked set to divide them. As he spoke the names of the woman Father had suggested, Loki could see the shock in Mother's eyes at the first one he named. And, indeed, Odin's wisdom had failed him in that. If there were anything guaranteed to harden Loki's heart against marriage, it had been the choice of Sif as the first suggestion. He had too much control to shout at Odin, having seen just how that ended for Thor and loving his father too much, but it had not been a good first choice. Amora had been better, but Loki had no wish to wed her either, albeit for different reasons. They were too much alike. The Enchantress had been his childhood partner in much mischief and he valued her friendship and her advice. But he did not wish to make her his wife. Besides, while they might be friends, in the matter of marriage, she had her eyes set on Thor.

Loki wished her and Sif a long and vicious courtship. He would enjoy the spite.

As for the others, the least said the better.

Mother of course had that irritating ability to see through his defences and shields. He might be named Loki the Deceiver behind his back by Thor's 'friends', or Loki Lie-Smith, but he had rarely if ever been able to deceive his mother in any matter. The tone she took, one that reminded him that she still cared for his well-being, aided her too, soothing his hurt and indignation. Still, she did not seem to grasp the full extent of the situation in which he found himself. "Father wishes it to be one of the nobility," Loki told her, managing to keep his voice even and pleasant. Restlessly, his eyes darted around the chamber, rarely resting on anything for long. "And all of the daughters of the nobility are sheep, lacking the wit to be a worthwhile companion for me." He waved a hand elegantly through the air. "Oh, to be sure there are wolves among them – Sif, perhaps, or the Lady Skadi – but I do not think either would suit my disposition." Loki's smile was wintry.

"No, Mother, my choice is between the warrior-princesses or a coterie of witless weavers, lacking even the intelligence of dear Sigyn there." A long finger stabbed out, indicating the aforementioned lady. He remembered her. It had been a while since they had last spoken, the final sorcery lesson he had given her, but Loki still remembered her kindly, if not with affection. But the 'dear' had slipped from his lips unintended, and he looked away quickly. "And so you see, it matters little what I wish. My choices are... somewhat limited."

* * *

><p>"Ah," Frigga murmured softly as Loki explained his Father's words. There had been the discussion of Loki's choice and the All-Father had been adamant that his son choose a woman of his station, but she had thought she had worn down his position on the subject. It would be preferred, but Frigga knew her son well enough to be able to guess his dislike of most of the women he was offered. She had hoped for Amora to know his heart, her position and friendship with him both in high standing. Skadi was another choice, though she was less fond of the option. The woman was strong, yes, but her independence was almost overpowering and Frigga found herself worrying for her quiet son in that situation. There was no doubt he could hold his own, but she would prefer a more feminine touch to help bring him out of his own mind instead of drive him towards further exile.<p>

She understood the choice as he saw it and that was why she was so adamantly on his side when it came to finding a bride he would be able to respect. As he gestured through the room, she honestly found herself shocked he even mentioned Sigyn sitting quietly across from them. She turned her head to follow his movement, caught sight of the shock that spread over the young woman's face at his words and then the quickness to hide the blush that spread through her pale cheeks by staring down at the sewing in her lap. Frigga smiled softly, now interested in what her son had meant and intrigued by her handmaiden's reaction.

Turning her gaze back to Loki but keeping Sigyn just at the edge of her vision, she let her small smile fall away for a moment.

"Loki, did I not just promise you that your choice was not so limited? The All-Father has his vision, but your Mother has her own as well," the smile she cast towards him now was fond, the small knowing smile she shared with her sons when she faced their father's will on their behalf and knew she could win. She did not readily go against her husband, but there were matters she understood about her sons far better than he ever could. It was part of being a mother and being there to observe them in all they did from their infancy, "Tell me more of what you expect. Intelligence like that of my Sigyn?"

* * *

><p>If anything at all could be said about this conversation, it was that it was rife with shocking news for the young girl. She had been listening, her eyes flickering between the Queen and the Prince while hoping neither would look her way. There had been nothing unexpected in Loki being told to marry within the nobility. That was something she was sure most took for granted. There had been nothing truly unexpected in his opinions of the women mentioned, and she had taken some satisfaction in that though she did not want him to be miserable. Yet, there had been nothing in their words that truly surprised her until those eyes flickered to her and he raised that slender finger in her direction and spoke her name.<p>

He had quickly looked away, and for a moment she was too shocked to move. Her blue eyes had widened, a quick feeling of fear being replaced by a giddy delight that welled up in her chest and spread a blush across her cheeks. He remembered her intelligence, her name, and she had not missed the affectionate term placed before it. She was shocked, yet pleased, a small smile playing across her full lips before she caught the eyes of her Queen on her. Ashamed of her reaction and fearing that Frigga would not look kindly upon it, she turned her attention back to her lap, wishing her hair was not pulled back so that it would fall around her in a curtain to hide the smile that still had not left her face.

Pretending to be occupied now, she listened intently to what was being said, relieved as Frigga did not seem offended by her lack of propriety.

* * *

><p>In normal situations, there was very little that escaped Loki's keen eye in a conversation. He would note every word and turn of phrase, every pause and emphasis, every flicker of interest and every concealed blush. It was true that often he would twist it all in his mind to the worst meaning but that did not mean that Loki overlooked any details. He knew how to decipher nearly any expression, any trickery or any falsehood – for who knew the tricks of lying better than a master of the art. Thor might be open and forthcoming, but the dark younger Prince hid his feelings behind masks and deceits and rarely if ever did he simply come forward and state what he felt on any given matter, preferring to see what the others might say before he revealed his counsel.<p>

Of course, this was hardly a common situation and, so, perhaps it was understandable that Loki's usually sharp gaze left Sigyn a moment too soon, before he could see the way her eyes had widened, the blush that spread across her cheeks or the demure way that she had glanced down. Instead, his eyes had returned to Mother, seeking her reaction, before his gaze flickered away in search of anything else on which to fix his attention. So, not only did the Prince miss the girl's reaction, but also that of Frigga. Still, it allowed him to fix the sardonic look of amusement that was his usual expression when he expected to be faced with bad news, as if laughing at the world would blunt the sting of it. Both brothers could be emotional, but while Thor's anger was loud and thunderous as befitted his place, Loki's was equally loud but often marked with tears and sharp words of scorn.

Here and now, he had mastered his emotions and his face was smooth as he looked back to Mother. She assured him that his choice was not so limited and that traitorous hope took hold of his heart again for a moment, before he ignored it. Regardless of what Frigga might say, there were only so many women in Asgard that he could wed, no matter what Odin might permit. Before he was allowed to dwell on that, however, Mother continued, her fond smile drawing a small, uncertain, almost reluctant twitch of the lip from Loki, who wished he could stand and pace.

As he was asked what more he would want from a wife beyond intelligence, the Prince frowned thoughtfully. It was not a topic that he had given much... any thought, as the prospect of marriage had never seemed an imminent one until this day. Intelligence, that was important... What else? "A knowledge of sorcery," he said slowly, "At least an adept. And..." Loki paused, uncertainly, suddenly quite aware of Sigyn's presence off to one side. An old memory came to mind as he sat there, from years before.

It had been during their time at the academy. He had been older, but it was not so large a place that even he was not vaguely aware of how the students treated the one dark haired girl amidst the mass of blondes. He had even vaguely admired her resolve. And then one day, Loki had happened to pass her on his way to the library, her hair dyed blonde to match the rest. He had paused, for a moment, examining it, before he had casually told Sigyn that it suited her better black. The next time they met, her hair was its old shade of raven-black and he had nodded approvingly. It truly did suit her better dark.

He returned to the present, blinking away the memories of the past. "Courage." His eyes flickered to Sigyn again for an instant. "Courage to stand up for what she believes in, rather than simply following the flock mindlessly, as well as to speak her mind. And loyalty." There. He had said it.

* * *

><p>Frigga did not bother to hide the wide smile that spread across her face as she noticed Loki's eyes returning to Sigyn as he spoke. Her quiet, secretive son had given his emotions away in that action, despite what she assumed was his wish to keep it all private. Perhaps he was not even aware of the emotion, but Frigga knew enough of these matters that she could recognize it when it was presented to her. His words told much of what he was looking for, of course, but it was his eyes that had given him away.<p>

Sigyn, when Frigga turned her attention to the girl, was still staring at her hands, though the flush of her blush had reached her ears and ran down her neck. There was a tiny smile on her face, a pleased expression Frigga had not seen often on the serious young girl. That there was attraction between them was obvious, and in that moment Frigga decided she was well pleased with such a match.

Sigyn had come to her when she had left the academy, a quiet, pretty young thing that, though not talkative provided a constant companionship that the Queen enjoyed. Perhaps she reminded her of Loki, a dark haired child who only used words when there was something important to say. Though she was not unkind, she did not speak often to the other girls, and Frigga found herself talking to Sigyn when she had sent all the others away. Sigyn stayed, always stayed even when told the Queen did not need her there for protection, and that loyalty was a comfort to her.

She would be good for Loki, if her guess of their feelings was correct. If she acted half as kind and compassionate as his wife, as she did as a protector and friend, then Frigga would be comfortable her son was in good hands. She would speak to Odin, express all of this and make sure he would not stand in the way of such a match, and then she would speak to the girl. To suggest it to Loki would be foolish. He would feel something was being forced upon him all the more and he would turn from the idea even if it were his most cherished wish.

"Those are all admirable qualities in a wife, and I am sure you will find them. Such a woman must exist in all of Asgard," she allowed her gaze to linger on Sigyn for a moment as she said that, hoping he would stop glancing around the room and maybe take notice of the girl's reaction, "But this conversation has agitated you. Let us talk of other things, if you wish, and I will ponder the idea of your courageous young woman."

* * *

><p>Sigyn, largely caught up in her own thoughts found herself again glancing up at Loki as he paused in his speech. For half a moment her eyes met his before she looked away again, her mind reeling with what he could mean. He had said she was intelligent, and she was a fine sorceress if she allowed herself that pride, and she would be loyal to him, as she would hope any woman would be to her husband. The courageousness was not something she thought she had, preferring to weather the storm of other people by tempering it with silence and fake smiles while inside she seethed. When faced with physical danger she would defend herself, defend her Queen above all else, but she was not sure that was courage. That was just her duty.<p>

Yet there was no mistaking his eyes had turned to her and she did not know what that meant. She was on uneven ground, knowing she should not be getting her hopes up but not entirely able to rule out that maybe he had been thinking of her as he spoke. It was unlike him to recognize her existence, when normally she was just a feature of the room. Even in their younger days, when they were more equals within the walls of the academy she had not been his friend. Amora occupied his time, and their interactions had been more a forced need of study by their instructors. It had only been one time that he had actually reached out to her in any way, and in that moment he had won her heart though she was loathed to admit it.

She was not the only dark haired woman in all of Asgard, but being dark was uncommon and therefore something other girls found an easy target to pick on. She had taken the abuse in school, learned to be on her own and largely ignore them, but what child did not want to belong with the rest? As she grew older she hid her tears and resentment behind the want to fit in and when she had finally asked her sister for advice, been told to try and change what they picked on. Nanna had helped her find the ingredients and the spell to turn her hair from black to a shimmering gold. She remembered running her hand through her hair, feeling included but almost feeling like it was an empty victory. Nanna's hair was light, but she had been born that way and never teased for it, yet she assured Sigyn this would help. Sigyn had not questioned then that she would not know what it was like. So the next day she had gone to her classes with a smile on her face. The other girls told her how lovely she looked, though none of it was really kind. They liked the new façade, and they liked that she had gone out of her way to please them, but not one of them wished to know her. It had taken a dark haired boy examining her for a moment and telling her he had preferred the black to remind her that she did not need their false friendship. That night she had reversed all of her magic, returning her hair to it's natural state and had ignored her sister's questions or the girls' responses to her change. She would be herself, and if that was not good enough for them it had been good enough for Loki, and that had been enough to sustain her until she had gained enough confidence in herself to not have to rely on her memory of his approving nod.

Yet, she had always looked at that as just being a child. The way her heart would ache for him was just the fancy of a teenage girl, and she had grown beyond that. She had grown beyond that until she suddenly had a hope that he thought kindly of her.

* * *

><p>Once he had begun to glance sideways at Sigyn, in what he fondly imagined what a discrete, casual fashion, as when he looked at any other young lady of Asgard, Loki found that he could not readily make himself stop. She seemed to draw his gaze in a way that few others did. Certainly, she was attractive and in the unusual way that Loki preferred – the raven's wing black of her hair was a far more pleasant colour that the honey-blonde of most Asgardian women and for reasons beyond the purely physical. While Sif had come to hers... dishonestly, as it were, and Loki swiftly pushed memories of that day from his mind, Sigyn's was entirely natural and he could not honestly see her without it. Certainly, he remembered how she had looked like as a blonde, but that had been years before and, now, when he tried to imagine it, his mind simply would not show it.<p>

From what he remembered of their lessons together, she was perfectly adept at the science of sorcery as well as being quite intelligent – much more so in her way than even Amora, who tended to turn into a lovesick puppy when his golden brother stepped into the picture and Loki, utterly unaware of any such tendencies in his own character, did not approve of them in others. He did not want a wife who would fawn over his every gesture or whim simply because he was Loki and certainly not when, in time, he would certainly have an entire kingdom of fools to offer him that service. No. And she had the subtlety that had been denied Sif, she whose preferred solution to any problem was the sharp edge of a sword. No.

Loki's thoughts were distracted by Mother's eventual comment and his gaze returned to her before unconsciously following Frigga's glance over at Sigyn for a moment before he ranquil that he was near to betraying himself. Instead, Loki drew himself up in his seat, fixing his eyes on his mother, not daring even another glance at the younger woman now that he thought his interest discovered. "Yes, and I will appreciate your counsel when it comes," the Prince agreed swiftly. "Let us speak of other matters. But... I would ask one thing first." His expression turned pleading. "Do not speak of this to Thor. I would tell my brother in my own time and in my own way." When he could twist the meaning so that it appeared that the marriage was entirely of his choice, was what Loki intended. Then, at least, he would not have to suffer the barbs of his brother's 'friends'.

That said, he let a thin sigh whistle between his teeth, before he relaxed a little, resting back in his chair in an illusion of ranquility. Whatever his appearance, Loki's mind continued to whirl and twist beneath it as he sought for an escape from the trap he could feel closing in about him. At the least, he had not been given a time within which he must find a bride... yet. But it would surely come.

For now, he raised a hand in a gesture of interest. "I hear that the Warriors Three came close to death this last week." A slight, almost malicious smirk played around his lips for a moment. "Apparently there was an incident with Fandral and a certain Queen of the Dark Elves, who decided to take offence at this." As much as he might deride Mother's handmaidens for it, Loki did take a certain, snide pleasure in knowing every last rumour that permeated Asgard – those he had not a hand in starting or maintaining, that was.

* * *

><p>She watched as Loki followed her gaze and then very pointedly looked away. She did not make mention of it, and kept her face neutral, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. She assumed he was placating her for now, but until she could further think on the situation she would not press it with him. He would be taking a wife soon, if she and Odin had their way, but she would give him time to take in the information and give herself time to convince her husband that Loki should be able to choose a wife he would be able to love.<p>

"Thor will not hear a word, Loki, and I will speak to the All-Father. Your news will be yours to share as you see fit," she assured him. She was glad to see him relax, allow himself to lean against the chair instead of acting like he was ready to spring up at a moment's notice. She allowed herself that same luxury; her hands folding in her lap as she listened to him begin to speak.

The topic of conversation pulled a slight frown from her, opposite to his smirk. "Loki, do not take delight in your friends peril," she said firmly, "It was a dangerous situation that they were lucky to get away from. Like most situations my children and their friends find themselves in."

She was not angry, but she was weary of the worry and she did not appreciate the mirth Loki seemed to find in these situations. She watched him carefully, to see if there was any remorse in his face though she did not fully expect it, one eyebrow raised in an expression of expectation for some sort of apology from him.


	2. Chapter 2

Frigga and her younger son talked for a little while longer, about matters of no great consequence to themselves, their family or to Asgard as a whole. Although she was conscious of Sigyn's presence throughout, she did not draw her son's attention to her faithful handmaiden and Loki himself seemed quite ready to look anywhere but at Sigyn. If he had done so before, it might have meant nothing, but Frigga allowed herself a secretive smile at that, which fortunately seemed to pass by her son's normally keen eyes. Instead, he eventually stood, begging leave to go. Frigga embraced him again, then watched her brilliant, secretive child sweep out of the room, no doubt to find a book or to find solitude atop the palace's tallest tower as had been his wont from a tender age.

In some ways, she would rather he had stayed with her, where she could ensure that the bitterness that often possessed Loki when things did not go as he wished would not overwhelm him on this occasion. But while she had drawn as much as she could from her son, there remained one other that she felt she must speak to for, if she would not allow Loki to be forced into a loveless match, then she had no intentions of doing the same to Sigyn, even if every sign her handmaid had shown since Loki had entered argued against her having any objections to what Frigga was beginning to consider. It would take work on her part, not least to convince her husband of the wisdom of this idea, and she wished to be certain as well as to sow the seeds of her plan in Sigyn's own mind.

With many, she would have waited a short while at least, but there was no time. Admittedly, it was a slight possibility, but she did not wish to give Loki time to stew further in his own resentment if she could. Nor did she wish to allow Sigyn to recover her quiet reserve before she could speak to the girl. Least of all did Frigga wish her to speak to her sister, Nanna, wife of Balder. For all that Nanna no doubt wanted the best for her sister, the queen doubted her counsel would be to pursue the course that Frigga had in mind. No, this was best done now, before she could doubt her own wisdom.

But before she spoke, Frigga allowed herself the chance to consider Sigyn for a moment, thoughtfully, looking for the virtues Loki had named and others. It seemed to her that she would make a fine wife for her son. She was clever, but not so much that she would try to overshadow Loki. She knew sorcery. And, whatever Sigyn might think of herself, Frigga knew her to be a kind, compassionate soul – exactly the sort she wished as a companion for her turbulent, moody boy. Much as she loved him, she knew that Loki did not always make it easy for others to love him or even like him. That simply made this all the more important.

A moment passed and then she smiled. "Sigyn, I would prefer solitude for a while yet. If the others are waiting, please ask them to return after the midday meal." Carefully, the queen took up her needle and thread once more. "Once you have done that, come and join me. I would speak to you for a while."

* * *

><p>As soon as Loki had left, Sigyn allowed herself a soft sigh of relief. It ha been easy to ignore them once the talk had turned to Asgard and other gossip, but ignoring them had her lost in her own turbulent thoughts. She longed to be able to leave the room, run to her home and think on own. That, or she would run to Nanna, curl up next to her sister and tell her all of her troubles, starting with that first moment she had ever looked on Loki with adoring eyes and ending with the confusing conversation that had just occurred.<p>

But that did not seem to be her fate. At first, when Frigga suggested she wanted to be alone, Sigyn had thought she would be dismissed and she felt her body relax as she quickly stood, placing her sewing down on the table that stood next to her chair. Yet, her Queen continued her statement and Sigyn hid her grimace before turning back to her with a small smile.

"Of course, my Queen," she said quickly, moving to the door with her head bowed. She ducked out, found her fellow handmaidens and told them of the Queen's wishes, watched as they moved away, wandering about their own business now that they were free of their duties for the afternoon. Sigyn, with a sigh, turned and headed back to the room, took up her sewing and her seat closer to Frigga. She began to work on her sewing again, waiting respectfully to be spoken to before turning her eyes to Frigga again.

* * *

><p>Frigga noted the soft sigh of relief that escaped her faithful handmaiden's lips and marked it as a good sign of sorts. In others, yes, it would have served as a sign of how they disliked her younger son's presence or company, and Frigga would have scolded them for it – if they had good reason to dislike Loki, then she would listen and chide him appropriately, but all too often it was gossip and rumour and she wanted none of either in her presence, nor among her handmaidens. But Sigyn was never the sort to listen to rumours. Frigga had noted that the girl had a way of listening to all sides of a story before making up her own mind which, once she had done so, was as nigh-immovable as her son's. It was one reason why she believed they might make a good match.<p>

Nor could she help but see the relief that filled the girl's form as she began to speak. It was a pity, because she did not wish to embarrass or taunt Sigyn, and yet the younger woman clearly would have preferred to be excused with the other handmaids for now. She felt sympathy, naturally, but it did not deter her from her chosen course. If she allowed that, then while it would save the two some embarrassment in the present, it would lose them the possibility of future happiness. Even before she had been married to Odin, Frigga had known the truth of that and she did not want to see either her son or Sigyn throw this chance away simply because they were uncomfortable or distrustful. That would be a shame and a waste, particularly now that she had given Loki her word that she would help him and the perfect candidate sat beside her.

She sat quietly, sewing elegant designs into the fabric of a tunic, while Sigyn briefly stepped outside to pass along her instructions. It would pain her too to lose her companionship and skill with sorcery and at sewing. Sigyn was a good girl and a loyal companion. But she had many who could fill that void. The feeling she had thought she saw between the two was rarer and Frigga, who had marriage in her own remit, did not mean to stand in the way of it herself, nor to let her occasionally meddling husband do so. Even if Loki was not hers in blood, he was her son in every way that mattered.

* * *

><p>Sigyn swiftly returned, sitting down beside her and concentrating on her sewing with an intensity that, again, almost reminded Frigga of Loki when he was reading and wished to be left to himself. A fond smile pulled at her lips. "So," she said after a minute had passed in solemn silence. "My younger son is to be married." Carefully, she reminded herself, carefully. "I would hear your thoughts on this matter, Sigyn – perhaps you have some... insight on this matter that might elude Odin or myself. We are, after all, his parents and do not see all sides of him. What do you think of my son?" She kept her tone soft, pleasant, conversational, but her eyes were intent on Sigyn.<p>

She meant no disrespect by any of her actions. Her relief had not been the need to get away from Frigga out of any dislike for her company, but because Sigyn herself was still reeling from the conversation. She valued her time with Frigga, comfortable in a place where she was needed and wanted, where her company was appreciated. She valued that the Queen sometimes sought her opinions, or otherwise felt her a worthy companion for the quiet talks they sometimes shared. It was an honor Sigyn had never thought to cherish.

Yet now, she valued the silence and the careful little stitches she was embroidering. It was comfortable and natural, and she could allow her mind to wander if Frigga did not bring up another subject. She could try to calm her mind, to push the dark young prince out. Yet he almost haunted her, with his piercing eyes and knowing smile. That moment she had caught his eye, caught him looking at her and the kindness in his voice as he spoke her name had ended her normally stoic self-reserve, and now she found he occupied all of her thoughts.

At Frigga's words she looked up, her bright blue eyes widening again as she took in the question. This was dangerous territory, a question that was more a field of traps than a conversation and she found her mind scrambling to come up with what to say.

"I do not believe my wisdom could ever match yours in this matter," she began slowly, "A Mother surely knows what is best for her son. Yet, if you ask my council of what I think of Prince Loki, I am afraid I do not know him well. He was always kind to me when we were children, and it is well known that none can match his wits. Any woman should be honored by such a match."

Her voice was soft, thoughtful. She was not confident that she fully understood the question being posed. Sigyn would never question the All-Father's words, for he knew always what was best for Asgard. She would be jealous, she knew. She would be heartsick when he married, but she would not express any of that to the woman before her. She had only just begun to express the emotions to herself.

* * *

><p>Sigyn's surprise was honest, at least. Frigga could easily tell that much from the shock that readily spread across her handmaiden's face and the sharp way that she looked up from the sewing in her lap. In this matter, at least, the young girl seemed to have very little ability to hide her feelings, which made the queen willing to believe that they were honest feelings, rather than the younger woman feigning what she felt she wanted to hear. She had no reason to believe that of Sigyn, none at all. But when it came to her sons' wellbeing, she had to be certain in all respects. Still, she gave the girl the time she needed to answer. There was no use in forcing it out of her, for Frigga knew that, if she asked it, Sigyn would admit to everything she felt, but it would humiliate her. She would not do that, particularly not here when it would be utterly useless. No, she allowed the girl to frame her thoughts.<p>

As Sigyn spoke, Frigga listened with a gentle and encouraging smile, nodding in agreement with the answers she heard. It was what she had expected from the quiet, withdrawn girl. Nothing too personal, just enough to appear that she had answered the question without saying too much. It was superficial, or at least she hoped, and not from the heart. She would ask again.

"There is no need to flatter me," she assured her handmaiden. "I might know what I think is best for my son, but I also know I see only one or two or a few of his many sides. His father sees another. You may see still others. I remember that my son tutored you in sorcery for a while. Tell me about that." Still, there was one thing in there which gave her hope. Loki was kind to her. That was... unusual. Certainly, Loki was not always malicious and cruel, but rarely did he go so far as to show actual kindness to others without reason. It was not in his nature. Frigga held a hand out, touching the girl gently on the arm. "But do not tell me what you think you should tell me. Just be honest." She smiled again. "I assure you, I will not be angry. I know my son is not perfect. Neither of my sons is."

Her smile turned wry. "But asking Loki about something like this is as easy and simple as extracting blood from a stone. Nor would Amora readily betray his confidences, I think, even if I asked. I would know what you think of him – your thoughts, not what you think I should hear. I assure you, your words will not pass these four walls. But I do not wish, as I said, to force him into a match he does not want with a woman he cannot love. Please, Sigyn, help me."

* * *

><p>Sigyn nodded, thinking of how to best phrase her feelings now that she felt she could not give her platitudes. She would not lie to Frigga, and thanks to her calm tone and careful smile, truly felt no need to lie. She was so kind, and perhaps Sigyn would find the comfort she wanted from Nanna in her words.<p>

"I do not know him well," she said softly, looking down at her hands for the moment, instead of into the Queen's face, "There were moments at the academy when he spoke to me. He was kind where others thought it a game to talk of me and my looks. He had said once, that he thought my looks suited me and as a young girl that was something that will always endear me to him. Our lessons were lessons and though I can not say he was always patient with me I could not have asked for a better instructor."

She paused for a moment, feeling the blush in her cheeks and her neck. Slowly, she looked back into Frigga's eyes, wondering what judgment would be found there, though now that she had started talking she was not ready to stop.

"I do not think any of this will help you in your decision, and for that you have my apologies. I know of your son what I observe of him. He is quiet, intelligent, yet quick to anger. He needs a woman with patience for that anger and understanding of the emotion that is behind his silence. As he has expressed it, he needs a woman who will give him some sort of a challenge in conversation. He needs someone who will appreciate fully what makes him so different from the men of Asgard, instead of finding in it anything to fear or pity or scorn."

Her voice had gained some determination behind it, her hands clasped together in her lap. She realized that she had probably misspoken, shown too much of her true feelings. Even when asked for such honesty she normally kept something of herself hidden. There was something frightening about being on display in front of someone with so much power, no matter how much affection was shared between them. But she could not take it back now, so she did not look away as she waited for Frigga's words.

* * *

><p>It seemed that she had taken precisely the right approach in asking Sigyn for her help as she had, for her handmaiden nodded and took the time to set her thoughts in order. It was a familiar sight, Sigyn with her eyes lowered and her mouth set in a very particular expression as she sorted through whatever it was that occupied her mind at that moment. Frigga had always appreciated that about her – she was not one to allow the views of others to override her own and she felt that it spoke well of the younger woman that she refused to be pressured into an opinion until she had thought it through herself. It also meant that, while she was still young and innocent, when Sigyn gave advice to anyone, it was thoughtful and considered and, if not always correct, then at least it was right.<p>

A fine trait in a wife and, although she had not thought of it in that way, an equally fine trait in a woman, who, if events unfolded as Frigga planned, might be Queen of Asgard herself in time. Certainly, a King needed a wife and Thor showed no inclination towards marriage – the Allfather kept his counsel on this matter, but perhaps this was a sign of favour towards Loki? Frigga put that aside. In all matters, she loved her sons equally and she would not allow herself to unduly favour one over the other. What Odin did as King was a matter for him and him alone. He had to do what was best for Asgard although, if Frigga was truly honest, neither son was truly ready for that burden. If one was more prepared... No. She would not even think it.

In any case, Sigyn had begun to speak, the words coming slowly but surely from her lips as she laid out her thoughts before her queen. Frigga sat silently, nodding encouragingly, always smiling as she listened. It was not hard, for none of what her handmaiden said displeased her in the slightest. And yet, she was listening more for how she spoke about her son than what she said. True, it was a good sign that Loki had been kind to her, more so that he thought her lovely, for that is how Frigga marked the words about Sigyn's appearance suiting her. But it was better that Sigyn spoke of him fondly and that she continued to blush as she spoke.

There was no judgement in Frigga's eyes as Sigyn met her gaze, only approval and delight. She allowed the younger woman to finish speaking before she stood and walked over to rest one hand on her shoulder. "There is no need to apologize. I asked for the truth and you gave it. More, you have been very helpful, Sigyn." She paused, meaningfully. "Indeed, I believe that I have found the perfect wife for my son already. That is, of course, if she wishes it as well." Frigga's hand squeezed Sigyn's shoulder gently.

* * *

><p>Sigyn was grateful her Queen was still smiling when she had first met her eye, grateful for the kindness she was always favored with. Frigga was a wise woman, but more so she was compassionate. Sigyn never felt fear in her presence, or that she was just a prop to be enjoyed. Now, with her asking opinions on Loki, she appreciated it more, though she was still nervous that she was speaking too close to her own heart.<p>

She had reasoned that, if Frigga wanted the truth, than it was not a true crime to reveal her feelings. She had no expectations of this conversation, outside of answering those questions posed to her. It was freeing to speak words she had kept hidden in her heart for so long, some of the thoughts coming to her as they fell from her lips, the last part of her speech shocking even her.

She did not know what to expect when Frigga stood, and she immediately turned her eyes to the floor. If she had spoken out of turn, Frigga would have already scolded her, she was sure. Instead of the chastising she had expected, she felt the Queen's gentle hand rest on her shoulder, and she turned her head to look up at her.

She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as Frigga spoke, telling her she had been most helpful. On one hand she was glad to have been helpful, as she always was, yet on the other she was aware that she had just helped the Queen come to a decision that would only bring her sadness.

"May I ask whom you—" she paused, her eyebrows knitting as the words and their significance seemed to catch up with her, "My Queen?"

She was terrified to be reading into the words more than she should. Presumptuousness was not an attractive trait, nor one she was used to. She preferred to keep opinions to herself, view all options before her, and yet it seemed when it came to the matters of her heart her words were coming from her mouth before she so much as thought of them.

* * *

><p>Frigga frowned when Sigyn quickly turned her gaze to the floor as she stood. She had not meant to frighten her, had meant only to support her, but she had forgotten how... easy it was for a girl to be intimidated in the presence of a mother, let alone when that mother was Queen of Asgard. Still, as she pressed her hand to her shoulder, Sigyn seemed to calm before Frigga's words struck home and she took upon the look of a startled animal.<p>

"I think you know," Frigga softly assured Sigyn, her hand resting on her handmaiden's shoulder supportively as the girl seemed to tremble like a leaf, her expression fluttering with fear or so it seemed to the queen. But it was clear that it was not so much fear of her as fear of the situation, fear of hoping for something that one had believed impossible and which was now being dangled before her eyes. Fear, in short, that she would reach for it and find that it was illusion. Fear that she would not be able to survive her dream being shattered before her eyes. The knowledge lent Frigga's motherly smile a sad edge. It was a look she wished dearly never to see on either of her sons' faces.

But, for now, she was alone with a frightened girl, and she sank into a seat beside Sigyn, her hand remaining in place comfortingly. "Fear not. I asked for your thoughts because I wanted to judge how you truly felt about my son. He is not an easy one to love, as I have said, and he finds it hard to think well of others. Marriage to him will not be easy for whoever marries him, or for Loki. But I believe that you have the strength and the intelligence and the heart to do so – if you truly love him." She raised a hand. "Hush. Do not speak to me. Go, think over what we have spoken." A small, secretive smile played over the Queen's lips, mischief in her eyes for an instant. "Perhaps you might find the High Tower suitable for contemplation? I believe Loki uses it for such at times."

She was hinting, yes, but she dared not do much more. Her son had a suspicious mind and overt meddling would be cause for him to wreck her plans whether he wished to wed Sigyn or not. Loki was, as the saying went, prone to cut off his nose to spite his face. But she nodded a dismissal to Sigyn, reassuring the girl that she could go. Frigga had yet to convince Odin Allfather of the wisdom of this course, and that would be a battle all by itself regardless of Loki's touchy pride.


	3. Chapter 3

If there had been any suggestion that morning that by the midday meal she would be rushing to her room in hopes to find a gown more beautiful than the one she had on because she was going to seek out the youngest Prince of Asgard to discuss the idea of his matrimony, she had completely and blissfully missed it entirely. This notion, that she had the Queen's blessing to be a wife to her son, the son she had admired from her girlhood, was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating and Sigyn found herself vacillating between the two as quickly as she moved.

The smile on her face could not be hidden, a secret, delighted thing that did not normally grace her features and she found it felt wonderful even if she did get some curious looks as she hurried past. In her family's home she rushed passed her mother and her sister who must have been visiting, a word of greeting all that left her lips before she had closed herself in her room and threw open her wardrobe.

A small, displeased frown replaced the flushed smile as she realized her collection was far too sparse for an occasion such as this. Her gowns were plain, which had never bothered her before yet now seemed a travesty. Nanna wore richly decorated clothing, in beautiful colors, now that she had been married to Balder. Sigyn found herself wishing for those clothes, but had to settle for what she had without alerting her Mother and sister who would surely find a way to talk her down from the emotions that were propelling her along to get to the top of the Tower where she hoped to find the dark-haired Prince.

With a tinkling sigh, she held a dove grey gown against her body, deciding it suited her complexion and made her blue eyes sparkle in contrast. She slipped from what she wore and into the newly chosen clothing, examining herself from all angles, smoothing out the skirt where it flared gently at her hips, the upper part snug against her body. The neckline was rounded, yet demure, nothing at all truly out of the ordinary for the young girl who never took her clothing too far into account.

She left her old gown discarded on the bed, was about to leave after a final check that her raven locks were still braided tightly and held at the nape of her neck, when a thought struck her. With a pleased glint in her eyes she opened a small box that rested next to her bed, pulled a necklace from it and placed it around her neck. It was a plain thing, a small clear stone hanging from a thin, black strip of leather, but Sigyn had loved it from when she was young. She just needed to make one change. Gently, she closed her hand around he stone, felt the magic flowing through her as she gently coaxed along the spell and hoped it would work. When she opened her hand the clear stone now glimmered green. It was not quite as dark as an emerald, and it pulsed gently with the light of the magic that colored it, but it served the purpose she had wanted.

Now dressed and believeing she had wasted too much time she made to rush passed her family again, not wanting to get caught in conversation, but as she made her move passed her, Nanna caught her hand.

"What is this, Sigyn?" she asked, a delighted smile spreading across her features, "you have no time to tell your sister what has you rushing around to change your clothing? Tell me. What man has caught my cold little sister's eye?"

"No man, Nanna," she said, trying not to seem so desperate to get away and practically bursting to tell her sister all of the truth, "I am on an errand for the Queen. I shall explain it all when I return."

She ducked down and placed a kiss upon her sister's cheek, rushing over and doing the same to her mother before she hurried out, promising to talk to them when she returned.

This would surprise them, she thought with some glee. Nanna's words had been in jest, thinking of the most incredulous thing she could for Sigyn. Sigyn did not resent her for that, could not resent the sister she had loved her entire life and who prided herself on nothing but her kindness to others. Sigyn had just never spoken of men to her, when they had both been young maidens whispering secrets in the dark after they had been told to go to bed. Nanna had been the one to spin those tales, to talk of who was fair or kind or suited for marriage. It would shock her if Sigyn truly came to her with any sort of fancy for the subject, instead of letting her parents find that match they thought suited her and enter into it dutifully.

Now, with this chance before her, Sigyn doubted she could look upon another no matter what her parents called her to do. She was getting ahead of herself, not thinking through what the implications of everything that was said were, lost in her own fantasy of marriage.

She took the stairs up to the top of the tower two at a time until she realized she would be winded and flushed once she reached the top if she kept that pace. Slowing, she felt her heart thudding in her ears with each step, feeling as though she was walking into some sort of trap and knowing she needed to pull all of her wits about her. Any conversation with Loki was a battle, a riddle of implication and lies and truths all working together to form what he could truly mean. He had taught her in that manner, and she had done well, so with some satisfaction she thought she understood him better than most. Now though, she was out of her element. She was not sure if one ever spoke to a Prince about his marriage, in a way instigated a courtship, and if one did she was not sure if that could be done with Loki. She would have to play this as if it were a game of strategy, and she silently was doubting she could win.

She stopped at the opening to the landing that overlooked Asgard, eyes scanning for the lean figure of Loki and lighting up when they found him. She had come up here on occasion when she was younger, and then all she had known was the vastness of it all and the height at which she had looked out over her home. Now she was only aware of how narrow a space she had to stand, how little the space was between her and Loki.

"Excuse me, Prince Loki," she said softly, catching his attention, "I apologize for invading your thoughts, but I wish to have a word with you if you will suffer the intrusion."

She kept her shoulders back and her head high, hoping to look like someone strong enough to be placing herself between him and his privacy, while inside she was starting to feel sick with nervousness. That was a trait she refused to let show.

* * *

><p>The younger son of Odin stood at the edge of the tower, staring almost blankly out over the glorious expanse of Asgard below him. There was something melancholy about his demeanour, a cool reserve to how he stood, staring down from on how at the Realm Eternal. It was a beautiful morning, only the slightest wisps of cloud daring to join the Sun in the sky, but deep down, Loki wished for a storm. There was none, of course. It was Thor's gift to summon the thunder, but right then he would have nothing so much as a storm, a great beast armed with lightning and with a voice like rolling drums to set upon the citizens of the kingdom below. It was one of the pettier wishes for black mischief that occasionally filled his veins, but one that would go unfulfilled. At least this day – Loki fully intended to find a way to cast a storm. There had to be a spell for something so simple.<p>

For now, however, he simply stood and brooded in silence and solitude, his quicksilver mind left to examine the problem before it in all its many aspects. He was to be married – that was at the core of the problem, of course. The heart. Then there was the likelihood that he was to be married to a woman he couldn't stand, whether she be a brainless maid, who would blush at his tricks, fail to understand his subtle jokes and who he would tire of within the day, or the Lady Sif – Loki hissed that name in his mind – with her barbed words and sharper weapons. Oh, to be sure, he would never grow bored married to her, but nor did he wish to fail to wake one morning with his throat cut or to wake to find the carcass of some great beast planted in his study. Boredom might actually be preferable.

It had come to Loki that his best hope, if this farce were to go ahead, was to choose to woo Skadi, for it would be a long and complicated process and this would allow him to draw out the issue for as long as possible. That would allow him to think of more arguments to set before Father. But, well, while it was a fair plan, it had its issues. As had the one to woo Amora, much as he was loath to ruin their friendship, and he found that he had no answer to this problem. Thus he stood and he thought and he cursed whatever or whoever had laid the seed for this in Father's mind with the blackest curses he could think of.

Here he could be alone to think and scheme or, as his mood went, brood on some perceived slight that he had been dealt. It was peaceful here, and rarely did others ascend to this lofty height except, sometimes, Father, to look out over his Realm. It amused Loki, because he knew every nook and cranny, every passage and shortcut of Asgard. He could travel from end to end in minutes or, just as importantly, delay himself as long as he pleased without seeming to linger. But this tower had only one route to the top: only a single staircase led to its crown. It was a mirror of he and Thor – only a single path led to the throne of Asgard.

It also had a splendid view, but he was in little mood to appreciate either that or the mirrors between the architecture and reality.

Indeed, he would have preferred continued solitude, but at length he heard soft footsteps on the stairs and another presence behind him. His head cocked slightly, not turning quite, but indicating that he was listening as the newcomer spoke up, revealing themselves to be his Mother's handmaiden and his former... pupil, Sigyn. She wished to have a word with him. No doubt at his Mother's request, Loki thought bitterly, tempted to lash out with his words and send the girl running back to the Queen in tears. But he held back, knowing that it might be important. Instead, Loki waved a hand nonchalantly, still not turning his eyes from the vista before him. "You may speak," he assured her. "And your intrusion is suffered."

* * *

><p>It occurred to her, very belatedly on her part, that his mood was darker than her own. In fact, it was darker than most she had seen, and she should have prepared herself for that seeing as how she had experienced he entire conversation that had passed between Mother and son. She would not be deterred by this, but she demurely dropped her eyes to the ground and stepped closer to him, shifting through her own reeling thoughts to choose the best words to express what she was not even sure she knew how to voice.<p>

Even if she knew the customs behind any of this, she was entirely unfamiliar with the practice, as well as the practice of speaking to Loki when he was so obviously upset. She took a moment, looked out again into the sky, feeling the warmth of the morning like a comforting embrace.

"I know," she began slowly, deciding then that Loki always seemed to tolerate her more when she was asking questions and challenging the lessons than demurely listening to all he had to say, "that it is not my place to comment on the conversations that occur around me. In this one, though, my name was mentioned," she allowed herself a sideways glance towards him, " and I wondered if you would need a person to speak to that was not someone that had made the decision that had you so displeased."

This could go very badly, and it more than likely would, but she made the decision to be persistent. She would not give up on the dark-haired man, as she knew so many had even if the words were not spoken to his face. The whispers and rumors that spread throughout the halls always angered her, her memories of him fond and her observances of him finding him to be troubled and in need of kindness. Now, no matter what barbs he threw her way or what words he would weave into a lie, he would have her kindness and her patience. Barbs sprang forth from a hurt place, and she had long ago grown numb to their sting, and the stories he told were part of who he was as much as any physical aspect of his body. One could not be judged solely on those attributes, and she knew that there was a kindness in him that, to her mind, was all the more important because it was something rare.

"I know also," she added quickly, before he had the chance to respond, "that I am overstepping our boundaries here, but we have spoken when we were younger and I believed you could use a friend in this, and so I offer myself as someone to listen to your grievances. I do not know if any advice I could give would be worthwhile to you, but I can promise to you that your words will go no further than this space between us."

As his Mother's handmaiden spoke up again, Loki kept his eyes fixed on the distance, only half listening to Sigyn's words as his mind returned to circle again and again and again the issue of how to escape the trap closing in around him. But he had long ago mastered the art of appearing to listen while paying far more attention to the twists and turns of his own thoughts than anything without. But, despite his best efforts, he still listened to what she had to say. Yes, he might tell himself that she is nobody to him, a pale wraith of a distant past that no longer mattered, or that he would be best served by ordering her to leave him alone. But he did not want her to leave, not yet. He wanted someone that was not his parent or his brother – or particularly attached to either – who he could say what he wished to, without fear of the consequences, so long as he did not say anything too outrageous.

* * *

><p>Under other circumstances, he might indeed have found her challenging and questioning to be alternately endearing and promising, but it was not the usual circumstances under which they had talked before. Nor was his patience what it had once been.<p>

For a long moment after Sigyn fell silent, Loki said not a word, his eyes fastened on something far below, some small detail or monument of Asgard that had caught his gaze. Then he straightened up and turned around slowly at last to face her, his hooded stare burning into hers from out of a face that was a touch paler than usual. "The decision," he began, slowly, "That has me so displeased." His tone was level, controlled, apparently neutral. "By that, I suppose you mean the Allfather's decree that I be married to whichever empty-headed, drooling, slow witted, sharp voiced harridan is the best of the mediocre batch that he deigned to present to me? I am half tempted to take myself to the Bifrost and cast myself off it to save myself from an eternity wedded to a girl as sharp of mind as Thor's hammer or worse – Sif!" His tones dripped venom, enough that had it been literal, the stuff would have burnt through the tower floor.

"Is that the decision that you mean, Sigyn?" Loki's voice was calmer again, but still noticeably higher pitched than his usual, elegant tone. "For I can see no advice that anyone could usefully offer me now. Even if your name was mentioned, it is Odin Allfather's will that I marry some scion of the nobility, a woman who knows nothing of sorcery or, indeed, of anything except how to sew and how to cook." It did not help that he could feel his control slipping and that made him more irritable, more eager to snarl and shout and drive her away too, until he could be alone. "If that is all the advice you have, I would suggest that you take it elsewhere."

* * *

><p>It was not his words that hurt her, but his tone. She would readily agree that most of the women she had to deal with in Asgard were slow-witted and boring, even if she would never feel she could say it out loud. She understood his displeasure and she realized that in trying to be respectful she had understated the situation. His anger was what hurt her, the sharpness of his words and the power of the fury behind them. It lit some fear in her, a need to turn and run, yet more so it made her want to soothe him. She wanted to help him, and if being the recipient of that darkness was something that could help then she would stand there and weather that storm.<p>

But politeness had only angered him, and he was by no means being polite to her. Holding her head high, despite her fear that she would not let show, she caught his eye and held it.

"That was exactly the decision I was referring to," she began, her voice calm and not at all angry, "yet I may have misspoke. I do not have advice that could help you. I know nothing of marriage, having never entered into one nor had my parents come to me with the suggestion. I do not and cannot understand what has been suggested to you, but I can listen to you and I can share my thoughts. I would no sooner find myself bound to most women here than cast myself from this tower. Though I do not make a habit of saying that, I know you must understand that I know them. You must have some knowledge of the anger I have felt, having witnessed it yourself."

She did not know where her thoughts were leading her, but she did not quell them. She had only intended to share her thoughts on marriage, to share that she did not know quite what he was being shackled with, but that she would offer herself to listen to his grievances, and yet she was spilling her thoughts to him as if she had no control over it.

"It would be torture to be trapped with someone you could not love, torture to be held in a marriage that offers nothing to you but a promotion of state or policy or whatever it is that would be benefitted from your match. There will be a day when I too, am told I must marry, and I will be expected to enter into that dutifully, but how can one make that choice? I know not. Yet in all of this you were given some hope, were you not? You were told you could find a woman that was not a empty-headed, drooling, slow witted, sharp voiced harridan. Who that woman is, you have yet to find. That much is true, but perhaps then, you could look for her instead of thinking of leaping from the Bifrost. Find a way to make this work for you, instead of only finding the darkness. Find yourself a woman you can look favorably upon, who has a knowledge of sorcery you seem to want, and who will take the sharpness of your own barbs without returning her own. Such a woman must exist in all of Asgard."

She fell silent then, still looking up at him, a slow horror at the words that had rushed from her lips starting to creep through her body, twisting at her stomach. This was beyond speaking out of turn, and though she had not spoken in anger she had spoken far too much. She swallowed hard, though her expression remained calm and compassionate.

For the moment she pitied him. She pitied his inability to find some joy in this situation, and she pitied the fact that he hid away in this tower when he was obviously so sad and angry. She almost could not bare it, the thought of the darkness that had seemed to cloud his mind, so angered by his duty to Asgard and his parents, and yet, she understood. To be married without love, to be bound forever to a soul that did not complete him would be nothing but torment. He would suffer and in his suffering so would his wife, and the family he would have. The All-Father, whose judgement Sigyn had never questioned, would be wrong to force him into such a situation. Yet, that was why the Queen had spoken to her. That was why she stood here speaking her mind to a man who cared nothing for it.

"I do not speak of being bound in marriage, Loki," she finished softly, her tongue still not done speaking more than her mind truly wanted to allow, "but your tone had seemed favorable to me, and I would wish you to know that I share that favor. As someone who would be a friend to you, I do not wish to see your pain and would help in any way I can, should my advice be useless to you."

She should have turned then, and hurried away. She should have run from the wrath she was sure to follow her declarations but she stood her ground, wanting to see if she could catch the emotion in his face, see some hint of the look she had caught while sitting in her place in Frigga's chambers.

* * *

><p>It would have been better for Sigyn, probably, had she fled. But Loki's mind, ever quick and sharp when it came to insults, had fastened upon the words he judged mostly likely to hurt, and he flung them at her, his mouth twisted in a cruel smile as he did so. "You would not be bound to 'most' of the women of Asgard?" The Prince asked, smiling that awful smile. "Why, I had no idea that little Sigyn's tastes inclined that way? Oh, I wonder which of the beauties has caught your discerning eye then... Hmm... Amora perhaps? Or Skadi? No." He paused for a moment, before snapping his fingers in mock revelation. "The Lady Sif. After all, she acts as a man in all other ways that she can, so why would she not wish to take a wife as well?" A flourish of his hand and Sif seemed to stand between them, garbed as a warrior, fierce and bright eyed as ever.<p>

He paused, savouring the words. It would have been even better had Sif been there as well, to hear that, but Loki used it anyway, aiming to drive it like a spear into the girl's body. How dare she lecture him? He wanted to see her go corpse-pale, see the life drain out of those eyes and see her stumble down the tower steps, to leave him alone and trouble him no more with her prattling and her hope. What hope should he have of anything good coming from this? He wanted no compassion, unless it came with the breaking of the chain being clasped about his ankle. It occurred to Loki to turn away then in arrogant dismissal, but he paused, his eyes lingering on her face in the hopes of seeing the effect of his words on her. Or that was what Loki told himself, pretending that the other reasons did not exist, for did not the Trickster lie to all, including himself?

It was also that, in many ways, she had succeeded in speaking his own thoughts, coming too close to his innermost hopes and fears and Loki had instinctively always flinched away from being too close to any of Asgard for reasons he himself could not fathom. Even Father, Mother... Thor... even they he would not reveal too much of his secret thoughts to, and it had stunned him that this girl he barely knew was standing there, seeming to know what no one else did. He wanted her gone. "Well, my lady Sigyn," Loki said, almost sneering, "Should I speak to your beloved, I will be sure to tell her of your... interest in her. But while I appreciate your attempts at advice, I would be alone." He dismissed the illusion of Sif, fluttering his fingers at her in a way that he meant to indicate dismissal, then turned back to stare at the view, emotions writhing inside of him.

At least part of him wanted to turn, to take his words back because he had counted Sigyn as one of those he could listen to, but she had the misfortune of being the first one to step into the path of his rage that he could lash out at and he refused to take those words back now. He just stared out over the city again, seemingly blind and deaf to all else, his fingers wrapped tightly around the rail of the balcony so hard that they were white.

* * *

><p>She stared at him, a mixture of horror, embarrassment and anger rising up inside of her that she walled away. He was lashing out, angry, and she understood that. She wouldn't let him break her down, and his words, though wildly inappropriate and hurtful, were nothing she could not handle. She had much thicker skin than Loki was giving her credit for if he thought that harsh words and a light trick were going to send her into tears.<p>

No. That was not what was making the sadness well up in her. It was that he was so thoroughly uninterested in everything she had said that hurt her. She had almost poured her heart out to him and all he had gotten from it was that foolish slip of the tongue that he could twist into something cruel. She knew he was intelligent enough to catch the meaning of her favour, to tell that there was meaning behind the words, but she was still being sent on her way.

She held her head high, though he had turned his back from her, swallowed hard to bite back the emotion and spoke softly,

"Very well then. If you would wish to speak at a later time, I would still be there to listen. Good day, Loki."

Terrified he would turn and lash at her again, she spun on her heel and left, hurrying down the stairs. Each step seemed to hurt her more, her resolve cracking the further she got from him. She kept her features set, stony and determined, but inside she felt herself crumpling.

She kept her composure as she entered her own home, though as soon as she closed the door behind her she felt the warmth of tears in her eyes. She rested against the door for a moment, letting out a shaking sigh, before she heard her name called, the voice of Nanna carrying towards her. She gathered herself, and hurried passed her sister, avoiding the hand that reached out to grab her and find some news. She made it to her room, closed the door and locked it before dropping onto her bed, her head in her hands and silent tears running down her cheeks.

The knocking was persistent, coupled with her sister's voice which had started out annoyed and turned to worried quickly. Sigyn ignored it, not ready to even begin to explain what had happened to Nanna, but her resolve was wearing thin. Yes, she wanted to be alone, but she wanted that loneliness to be companied with silence so she could despair. Nanna was making that impossible, and Sigyn had no patience for it.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks she stalked across the room and opened the door, stepping aside just slightly to let her sister in before closing the door again.

"Sigyn," Nanna was saying before she even turned to her, "what has gotten into you? One second you are running out the door smiling the next you are locked in here with tears on your face. This...isn't like you," she reached out a hand towards her, probably seeking to pull her into a hug but Sigyn shied away from her, earning a small frown.

"It was nothing, Nanna. Just my own foolish fancy. Please let me be," she said softly, her stormy eyes on the floor so she did not have to look into her sister's face and see the worry or sadness or compassion.

She loved Nanna in all things. Her sister had been a constant companion, sweetness and light and friendship and it had torn out her heart when Nanna was married and gone. At any other point Nanna presence would be welcome, to talk to and take comfort in, but this was a matter Sigyn did not want to discuss. Now she just wanted to be angry and determined, to plan and to cry in equal measures and her sister's sweet voice did not allow for any of that. The only other instance that could make this worse would be if Balder were there as well, his kindness overshadowing anything else in the room and leaving Sigyn feeling cross and ashamed that she had entertained any anger in her heart.

She endeavored always to be calm and level-headed, for she was not blessed with the same innate kindness that made up her sister and her brother-in-law. She could be petty and she could be mean, but she held it all in behind her silence and her thoughts. Those thoughts belonged to her, and her alone, and they hurt no one as long as she did not let her temper fly.

"Sigyn, come," she felt her sister's hand on her shoulder, pushing her gently so she was sitting on her bed again and Nanna was sitting next to her, moving her hand from her shoulder to starting pulling at the pins that held up her hair, "tell me, my dear little one, what has brought you so much sadness. An errand for the Queen?"

"No. I misspoke so I could escape without your questions," she said with a sigh, feeling her hair fall heavy over her shoulders and down her back. She shook her head slightly, causing it to fall further around her face, hiding her in its black curtain. Nanna was undeterred, taking a section at the back and starting to braid it. It was a ritual. One of them was upset and the other would do their hair in whatever silly style they could manage, normally a cascade of tiny braids since it was the easiest to do without so much focus.

"I will wait for the truth then," she said slowly, and Sigyn could picture the small frown deepening on her face just from her tone of voice.

"Will you not leave until you have it?"

"Neither one of us will leave until I have the truth. I'm sure the Queen will understand once I explain the lesson you would be learning if you missed your duties."

Sigyn turned her head, letting out a tiny noise of pain as her hair pulled, "Nanna, I am not a child. I do not need my sister, who is not so much older than I, to be teaching me lessons."

The patience did not leave her face and there was only compassion swimming in her wide blue eyes and Sigyn found it all the more infuriating. She would not be treated like this, like she had run home from the academy a teased little girl. She was a woman, lost yes, but able to make a plan and she would not be chastised.

The silence stretched between them, Sigyn's glare and Nanna's soft frown holding out until finally he younger girl let out a loud, almost pained sigh, "My duties would not be the ones that suffered. You could not keep me from them, yet if you chose to stay here I believe it would be you who suffered in your own duties to your husband."

That got her a raised eyebrow and hands firmly on her shoulders again, pushing her so she was turned around, fully facing her sister.

"I do not know what has gotten into you, Sigyn, but you will tell me. This is not how my sister behaves."

"Perhaps then, you do not know her."

"Where were you and what has happened? If you do not tell me I can not help you, and that is all I wish to do despite your sudden attitude," her voice was getting higher, Sigyn noted with some satisfaction. There was finally some anger there, about all the anger that could be coaxed from her with words without being unduly mean, and Sigyn took some solace in it.

"I was speaking to a man, but it has come to my attention that I do not know how to properly do such a thing," she said softly, turning her eyes to anything in the room but Nanna. She heard her sigh and was tempted to snap again but chose against it.

"You know, I honestly did not think we would ever have a talk such as this, and now that we are I do not know if I will be much help. Who has caught my venomous little sister's eye?" The insult was said with a teasing love so that there was only kindness in her statement, and Sigyn was quickly losing her resolve to fight as the details of her conversation came flooding back to her.

"It would not matter, Nanna. There is nothing you can do."

"My little sister is in tears. I will find something I can do, and if I cannot there are always others we can talk to. Tell me who has hurt you."

She wiped away the tears again as they began to fall unbidden down her cheeks, taking a deep breath and trying desperately to decide if she should confide this in Nanna. There was no reason not to. Her sister would keep her secrets and give her advice. She had a husband, had found him for herself out of all the men in Asgard. She would be helpful in this. There was just a tiny voice in her mind yelling that breathing a word would be a terrible idea. She silenced it, pushed it away, and began to speak,

"There has only ever been one man that I have thought would make a suitable match, but until this day I refused to allow myself to entertain such ideas. I was just to marry whom our family chose, and my life would be set before me. Today though, something changed. Words were spoken that I will not share. Words were spoken in confidence, and my hope changed. It remains that way. These tears are but a temporary set back," she firmly believe the last part. She would speak to him again, go to him with a better idea of what to say and hope his mood was not running so foul.

"You did not tell me anything in that pretty speech, Sigyn," Nanna said after some silence had passed. Sigyn smiled weakly.

"That was the point."

"Are we going to go back to my threatening not to leave your side? You know I will stay here, and you will have no peace until I have an answer. You spoke to someone in confidence, and have cared for a man you thought you would never hope to marry. You must tell me something more substantial. A name would be most helpful."

"A name you will not get," Sigyn responded, "I told you I spoke in confidence. You know I cannot share that which passes between the Queen and me. So, cease your questioning."

"The Queen? Why would anything she said bring your thoughts to marriage? Unless...oh Sigyn, Thor is too brash a husband for you."

Sigyn froze, her mouth falling open slightly and her eyebrows rising in a mixture of question and horror. That anyone would think such a thing of her was so shocking it pushed her sadness away and replaced it with a sudden shocked and sarcastic laughter that pulled another frown across her sister's face.

"Thor?" she asked, not bothering to fully hide her mocking tone, "You think I would want to marry Thor? Oh, Nanna, what would I find in him; lack of conversation and the need to constantly be filling a glass with mead? No. I prefer quiet and intelligence and—"

"Loki?"

His name brought up a mixture of feelings in her. The warmth of a blush and the coldness of her despair hit her hard, pushed away all of the sarcasm so that she almost missed the shock and sadness in her sister's features.

"Not Loki, Sigyn. Loki would be a worse choice than Thor. He is...he is not a caring man. He is not a gentle man. Please, turn your thoughts from this."

"I will do no such thing," Sigyn snapped, hurt by her sister's accusations and refusing to acknowledge them despite the conversation that had just occurred between her and the man they spoke of, "this is not just girlish fancy, Nanna, and you will not change my thoughts by repeating the words of others. You do not know him."

"No, Sigyn. I fear it is the other way around," she said softly. She reached out again, took Sigyn's hand in her own and squeezed it gently, "You must let this go."

"If I had looked at you and told you that Balder were not a match for you, would you have let it go? Would you have listened? You would have turned me away, because you knew your own heart better than I could. Let me handle this, Nanna, and if it is a mistake, let me make it."

Silence passed between them, stretched like a void, as Nanna seemed to fight back all the words and warnings that hid behind her eyes. Finally she stood, placed a kiss on Sigyn's forehead and took her leave, and though Sigyn was not used to her sister being so understanding of such a situation she did not have it in her to question it. She was far too focused on her other problem, her mind working to solve the puzzle that was Loki with no time for the puzzle that was Nanna.


	4. Chapter 4

There were certain things one just did not do in Asgard. It was common knowledge, for example, that to touch Loki's books without his express permission was to court certain and painful (if usually to the perpetrator's pride rather than their body) retribution. Equally, suggesting that the Lady Sif was a woman was an excellent way to be sent to the Healing Room for a lengthy stay. Or implying Volstagg could not eat something, because he most certainly would, no matter what the suggested delicacy. There were certain things that one did not do in Asgard. One of those was to disturb Skadi without very good reason.

The pale-haired huntress sat alone in the hall of Asgard, a platter of food sat before her and a tall spear leant against the wall nearby. It was what they called a bear spear – long, with a thick, heavy shaft of yew wood that was tipped with a leaf-shaped blade of black iron. She named it 'Life-Drinker' and it was rarely far from her hand. Although the hall itself was far from empty, no one had dared to come too near. Sometimes, she would eat with Loki or others of his company, when he did not dine with Thor and his brother's friends, but today the Lie-Smith was not to be seen and Skadi ate alone, with a silent efficiency that set her apart from the crowd every bit as much as the simple, practical leather armour and fur cloak that were her clothes.

But, despite her silence and her distance, she watched all that went on around her with her unnerving, almost-colourless eyes. But she remained aloof from it, in every way the perpetual outsider even had the rumours of her Jotun blood not remained. Offhandedly, she popped a morsel of bread smeared with honey into her mouth, the gesture efficient, no motion wasted. Skadi cared little for the rumours. She enjoyed most her time outside Asgard, hunting alone or with one or two comrades, and returned to the chase as soon as she could. Despite that, she had been in the city for almost a week now. The huntress came and went as she pleased, as always, and she had no family to object – one of the many reasons that Sif and she were rivals at best. Sif's family remained alive and thoroughly disapproving of their daughter's choices in life.

Skadi drank from the flagon that stood at her elbow, setting it down, before glancing around. She had hoped to see Loki this morning – he could be relied upon to share some scathing words that would bring a smirk to the caustic Asynja's face, particularly if they were concerning Thor, for whom she had little patience and less time. But the dark haired Prince remained elusive and it was not in her nature to go in search of him. Their camaraderie, if such it could be called, was based on two souls that had never felt entirely at ease in Asgard and she had no interest in moving beyond the boundaries that they had silently set.

Her gaze did however catch the sight of a dark haired girl entering the hall. Across the room, their eyes met for a moment and Skadi raised her eyebrows with some curiosity as the girl – a handmaiden, by her dress – set off across the hall towards her with distinct intent. Few wanted to talk to her and she did not recognise the newcomer by sight. But her expression remained coldly disinterested as the girl approached her, saying not a word but leaning back and allowing her unwelcome visitor to speak first.

* * *

><p>She had not taken midday meal, had returned to her duties quietly and done her best to not outwardly avoid Frigga's eye or knowing looks. She did not know what had occurred, as far as Sigyn knew, and she would gladly keep it that way. She went about her normal duties, mostly sitting silently while the other women spoke around her, entirely fearful Loki would walk through that door again.<p>

It was a stressful day, a day she was glad was over when she begged out of any sort of evening meal and found her way back into her room. She claimed some minor illness so she would be left alone, her family unknowing of anything that had occurred unless Nanna had spoken to them, though, if she had, they gave no outward appearance of it.

So she had kept herself hidden away with storming thoughts. She wracked her brain for everything she could think of that would please him. She went over their lessons, the couple of times she had seen him outside of them and realized she came up completely blank. She cared for him, was entirely infatuated with him and yet knew very little about him. She needed to talk to someone who would know more of him, a friend of his who might offer her some aid. Not Thor, though he would have probably delighted in the thought of a woman wishing to court his brother. Not Amora, who Sigyn knew from the academy and did not wish to plan with unless it was necessary. Amora would suit the situation to fit her own needs, and Sigyn did not have the patience for it. There was Skadi, who would spend time with the Prince when she was not out on her own. She was a hunter, a loner, and Sigyn thought perhaps she could get a straight answer from her. It was worth the attempt, after all. Resolving to speak with her in the morning, she had allowed herself a fitful sleep.

The morning had come far too quickly, and she had dressed hurriedly in a plain gown, leaving her hair down so she did not waste any time in pinning it to her head. She deftly avoided her family, and any others who would stop her in her quest, pausing only when she reached the doorway to the hall and scanned for the pale woman she hoped was still in Asgard.

She caught sight of her just as Skadi glanced in her direction and she held her gaze for a moment. There was some pause in her plan as she took in the disinterest, the way the others avoided sitting near her and the spear at her side. Sigyn did not think she would be attacked just for her questions, but Skadi was an imposing figure and seemed to want to be left alone.

Yet, she pushed herself forward until she was standing on the other side of the table, a smile on her face to counter the look of disinterest from the other woman.

"Skadi, I would ask some counsel from you, if you had the time to spare," she said softly, hiding her nerves and hoping she did not get turned away.

* * *

><p>Skadi had wondered, no, expected her stare to cause her visitor to take whatever concerns she brought with her elsewhere, for the girl appeared to be nothing but one of Queen Frigga's endless stream of servants and handmaids. Most of those lacked the spine to dare her ire at all, given the reputation she had established for herself in the halls of Asgard. But the dark haired girl, despite her apparent frailty, pushed onwards, until she stood before the huntress. Skadi's expression remained disinterested and cold despite the warm, shaky smile that was almost etched on the girl's lips. But she still took note of the loose hair, the simple dress and the signs of lost sleep upon her face.<p>

The girl stood across the table from her and asked for counsel, a request that left the pale Asynja's brows raised despite herself. This was the first time any in Asgard had asked her for advice upon any topic and she could think of no reason why this girl, this handmaiden of the Queen, would dare to come to her and ask for it when surely there were a dozen others who would happily take one look at those big blue eyes even framed by the dark hair and tell her anything she wished. Why come to her, when there were so many more easy choices? It intrigued her.

She paused for a long moment, letting the girl squirm as she considered. But then Skadi lowered her chin in the smallest of nod, before gesturing brusquely for her to sit. The huntress waited patiently as the girl sat, saying nothing for a long moment. This handmaiden might have some news that intrigued her, but that did not mean that she would greet her like an old friend. After she judged enough silence to have passed, Skadi leant forward slightly, taking another drink, before giving her visitor a mirthless smile.

"First, I would know your name," Her accent was somewhat foreign for an Asgardian, but she spoke their language with only a guttural edge to her tone to mark it as her second tongue. "Then tell me what brings a pretty thing like you to my table." Absently, she reached out with her free hand, resting the tips of her fingers on Life-Drinker's shaft as she leant back in her chair. It was not something she did knowingly, but the huntress liked to have her weapon to hand. It was as true a companion as any Asgardian.

* * *

><p>The long silence that passed set Sigyn on edge, but she held the woman's gaze and refused to back down. She had come here with a purpose and though she did not exactly know how to broach the subject she was going to make an attempt if Skadi allowed it.<p>

When she finally allowed it, Sigyn sat, folding her hands in her lap and waiting to be addressed for another long moment. She was not sure if this was a test or a strategy to put her on edge, but if it was she it was working. She stopped herself from biting her lip, from looking away or showing any other signs of the slight fear, thinking that any sort of weakness would cause Skadi to look down on her. This was a battle of wills and Sigyn could not lose if she wished to gain the knowledge the woman had of Loki.

When finally she spoke Sigyn felt slightly relieved and slightly embarrassed that she had not introduced herself to the woman. Her eyes glanced to the spear, to Skadi's hand brushing over it, and she felt another rush of nervousness. The woman would surely not just run her through in the hall, but there was a foreboding air to her that told Sigyn she was entirely unwanted.

"Sigyn Iwaldisdottir," she said softly, turning her gaze from the spear and back to the woman at hand, "and I come to you with a somewhat private matter. I wish your advice regarding Prince Loki."

She did not know how to further elaborate and did not wish to make a fumbling attempt at it until she knew Skadi's mind in offering that help. If she were to be turned away than she would leave with some of her dignity intact.

* * *

><p>Skadi marked the way that the girl's eyes followed her hand to Life-Drinker and saw the fear buried there. Most might have missed it. The girl was making a truly admirable attempt at hiding it but Skadi knew. She spent her time tracking animals, hunting them and then killing them. She knew fear when she saw it, whether it was in a boar faced with the tip of her spear or in the eyes of a girl waiting for advice. She might not be shaking but fear came in many different forms. It was, in fact, surprising that she showed no more signs of fear. Of course, she had to know that there was no chance that she would be struck down in the middle of the hall, but Skadi had deliberately cultivated an image that was intimidating.<p>

She kept her fingers pressed to the cool wood of the spear, listening with a carefully blank expression to the explanation of who this girl was and what she wanted. More intriguingly, what it had been that drove her to approach her and stay despite the dread in her eyes. Her own eyes were slightly narrowed, boring into the girl's as she waited. She did not have long to wait. The girl declared herself to be Sigyn Iwaldisdottir, a name that left Skadi's gaze sliding sideways to a table nearer the royal family's dais, empty, but where the family of Iwaldi was often to be found. Her pale eyes returned to Sigyn's in time for the girl to add that she had come to her with a somewhat private matter – she wished advice on Prince Loki.

Skadi's surprise was shown in the slight shift of her features for a moment before they returned to their former cold set. "Loki..." She regarded Sigyn for a moment longer, before rising to her feet, her fingers clamping tight about Life-Drinker's haft. A deft twist of one leg pushed the chair back under the table and then Skadi was moving, walking past Sigyn towards the doors. As she passed the girl, she glanced downwards at Sigyn's face. "Well? You said this was private. Then come." Without pausing, the huntress continued on her way, passing through the doors of the great hall and out into the corridors of the palace itself. She set a brisk pace, uninterested in whether Sigyn was keeping pace, not bothering to check until they emerged into a small courtyard.

It was not one frequented by any Asgardians, for it led nowhere. It was simply a small courtyard, shaded from the morning sun by the high walls of the buildings surrounding it and, in the centre, containing a tall tree. Skadi leant against the tree, Life-Drinker propped by her side. "You wish to know about Prince Loki," she stated when Sigyn had joined her. "I may answer your questions, but I wish something from you first."

She leant her head back, peering up at the sky. "The Prince and I have an understanding of sorts. He makes me laugh. If you make me laugh, I will answer your questions. Otherwise, I will not. Well, Sigyn Iwaldisdottir? What say you?"

* * *

><p>Sigyn had followed dutifully behind Skadi not saying a word and ignoring the surprise and mistrust on the faces of those that glanced her way as she walked with a woman most feared to look at for too long. She did not care for them or what they thought, focused fully on the task at hand.<p>

Her mind was reeling, grasping for a way to phrase her question without seeming like a desperate fool. There was very little she could think of to improve the matter, to make herself still seem as impervious to the whims of her emotions as the woman who led her away from the hall. It was something she admired and strived for, though she knew she would never project a frightful image. She wanted to always be resolute in her feelings, an even, thoughtful and calm woman. Loki incited this rush of emotion, the warmth and giddiness at the thought of him and the sadness at the remembrance of his words.

They left the halls to enter a small, enclosed courtyard not frequented by many of Asgard. The seclusion dispelled a small fraction of Sigyn's nerves, making her hopeful she would not get laughed at in front of all those who were taking their breakfast at that time. It was a bright morning, a warm morning though the shade provided a slight chill.

Sigyn watched as Skadi lent against the tree, preferring to stand with her hands clasped in front of her, head held high to hide her nerves though something told her the woman already had a perfect read of them. She was a hunter, after all, and Sigyn was sure she did not change the way she looked at the world just because she was not stalking an animal. That would be like suggestion Sigyn did not search for the subtleties of magic or feel that power in her, just because she was not performing any sort of spell. It was ingrained in this woman, and Sigyn felt very much like the prey, cornered and lost with nowhere to go.

She nodded at the first statement. She wished to know of Prince Loki, but she was not sure exactly what she wished to know. How to make him notice her? How to win his friendship? They were worthwhile questions, of course, but she was nervous.

Though she would have to wait to ask them.

She tried to keep the surprise from her face, though her eyebrows rose slightly. She would have to make this woman laugh. It seemed an impossible task, a quest for a girl not normally used to such things, and she had no idea how to go about it. She was not a funny woman, nor did she feel that traditional amusement mattered much to Skadi. No. This was something she implied came from Loki, and Loki's amusement came from his mischief.

"I will most certainly try," she said slowly, the uncertainty evident in her voice as her mind worked quickly to try and figure out what to do. Magic was the first thing that came to mind, her skill she most prided herself on, but she did not know what purpose she would use it for. She glanced around, searching for something in that courtyard and found nothing of any use.

"Come, then, back this way. I must find someone, " she said, turning swiftly and starting to walk to a more populated area, hoping there would be something in the there that would inspire her to some sort of mischief. She did not move too swiftly and waited until she heard the footsteps behind her, hoping that her vague explanation would be enough to merit leaving their seclusion for a moment.

There were other courtyards, more populated or with balconies that overlooked them and there she caught sight of a flash of golden blonde hair and heard the soft murmur of a familiar voice. She bit her lip, pausing just at the edge of the courtyard, careful to stay out of the line of sight of her sister and Volstagg conversing. Nanna seemed determined, the set of her jaw and gestures of her hands as she spoke expressing urgency, though Sigyn could not make out the words.

She did not want to cause mischief to her sister, but this was an easy solution to the problem. Nanna, if she knew Sigyn were responsible, would be angry but there would be no grand repercussions, though Sigyn did not think anything she would do would be bad enough to call for that. Nanna would understand, if she would allow herself to see reason, that finding out about Loki was important and there were not many allies she could turn to. If minor discomfort and the disruption of this conversation were the results than she would take them in stride.

Gesturing for Skadi to remain hidden, Sigyn focused on her sister, pushing the guilt away with the thought of this being important for her future. She lifted her hand and waved it gently in a small but somewhat intricate pattern, using all of her concentration to focus on Nanna.

She normally wore a series of small golden combs in her hair; the shape of a tiny birds with jeweled eyes, and from them Sigyn had taken her inspiration. Instead of its normal gold her hair turned a darker brown almost the colour of straw. In that nest of hair, three little birds struggled to escape, their chirping carrying down to the apologetic woman who watched and hoped this would bring some sort of laughter to her companion.

It seemed to take a moment for Nanna to register that there was now a living creature in her hair. Volstagg noted the change first, his expression turning to confusion before the sound of Nanna's scream filled the courtyard. She reached for her hair, her hands pulling at it to try and get the birds to leave, letting it fall loose so she could see the change in color. Volstagg reached towards her, fumbling to aid her, but she had already turned and run inside, no doubt to go to her room for a mirror or search out her husband.

Sigyn stood watching the commotion nervously, fighting back the want to run to her sister and apologize. Volstagg had also followed her in, leaving the courtyard now quiet until a single yellow bird flew back out through the doorway and Sigyn waved her hand, listening as it fell to the ground with a tinkling sound implying it was jewelry again.

* * *

><p>For a long moment afterwards, there was silence. Until, at last, Skadi laughed, the sound sharp and clear. She had lingered in the shadows behind Sigyn, watching the scene from a distance and holding her mirth back until the victim and Thor's fat friend had gone far enough that they were unlikely to return.<p>

She cocked her head to one side, inspecting the scene of Sigyn's prank carefully although, in the aftermath, there was precious little left to see. There was only the faint glint of light on the jewelled bird on the stones, left where it had fallen. Quickly, ignoring Sigyn's nervous and irrelevant fidgeting, she walked over, snatching up the comb and examining it carefully. Nothing, no sign whatsoever that it had ever been anything but a comb. Every jewel fixed in its setting, the gold pure and clean in the weak sunlight.

"Sorcerers," she muttered, smirking slightly as she turned the item over in her hand, "All the same."

Still, they had made a deal. Skadi turned back to her companion. "You seem to be able to understand the Prince's mind well enough, little trickster. But ask away." Casually, she flicked her wrist, tossing the comb to Sigyn.

* * *

><p>She almost reached out and stopped her from going into the courtyard, fearful that they would be caught. She was not naturally inclined to mischief, or so she told herself. Her excitement was based solely on the laughter, the fact that she would be getting her answers. There was no delight in causing other's pain.<p>

She stayed at the edge of the courtyard, watching as the white haired woman retrieved the comb. She was not quite ready to move, but the smirk was not lost on the dark haired girl. Part of her was pleased with it, was pleased that someone was finding amusement in her skills and that she was doing something to help herself. She caught the comb as it came flying towards her, already thinking of a story in which she found the comb in the courtyard and immediately recognized it has her sister's.

"I do not know what you mean," she said quickly, her eyes moving away from Skadi's face at the implication that she was a trickster. She was not a little trickster, but a girl in love. She was not sure what was a worse fate, "I search for a way to make the Prince look favorably on me. I did not know where to go, but to his friends."

She was fully aware that she sounded foolish, that she was blushing and that she wanted to sink into the wall and disappear. She told herself that should she truly need to, she could be gone in a moment. She could be safely in her room, or fully across the city in a blink of an eye and that was some comfort should Skadi scorn her for this ridiculousness.

* * *

><p>Skadi's smirk widened as Sigyn denied that she was a trickster, but she stayed silent. Something in the girl's voice and manner told her that she was not as convinced as she wished to sound, but it was not Skadi's concern how this girl viewed herself. Like as not, she was a little trickster, a title that simply made her interest in Prince Loki all the more interesting. One trickster... one sorcerer... they were all the same.<p>

Instead, the huntress walked back to join her companion in the shadows of the entrance way, ears and eyes alert for any movement. It was likely that someone would be here soon. They should go elsewhere before answering questions. Sharply, she jerked her head back the way they came as she passed by Sigyn, her long strides carrying her back to the courtyard and the tree at its centre. This time she leant on her spear, waiting until Sigyn had followed her. It occurred to her that she should send the handmaiden back to her family or her mistress, for this was hardly the kind of conversation that usually drew her interest. But, as the saying went, a bargain was a bargain. Skadi had her honour.

"Well, Sigyn Iwaldisdottir," She began, flatly, her pale eyes equally cool as they met the other Asgardian's, "I would say you already know how to make Prince Loki look favourably upon you." Despite the lack of emotion in her voice, one corner of her mouth was still quirked upwards a fraction as she took a little amusement from the red blush spreading across Sigyn's cheeks and the fear she could see in her. "He esteems intelligence, cunning, sorcery... I am certain a girl with your talents would find it easy enough to draw his eyes." Skadi jerked her chin up a fraction, indicating the girl's hair. "His taste is for the unusual as well."

* * *

><p>She followed silently after the huntress, staring at the ground the entire time. Her cheeks were hot, her mind screaming at her about how foolish this ploy had been. She was a foolish girl with a foolish heart and foolish thoughts. She should have stayed in her room, or just gone to the Queen as she was supposed to do instead of following a whim that was only going to bring heartache and embarrassment. Nanna knew what was right. Nanna would never steer her in the wrong direction. She should have trusted her older sister, or she should have gone to her Mother.<p>

But her Queen had been the one to suggest it. Her Queen had been the one to bolster her hopes, and she served Frigga. She would have been remiss to ignore such advisement.

She stopped a few steps away from Skadi, her eyes leaving the ground to take in the face as she began to speak. Her words reinforced some of Sigyn's hope, reinforced what the Queen had implied and what he had seemed to indicate from the conversation had had with his mother, but none of it gave her any ideas in how to get him to truly look favourably upon her. The conversation she had had with him, though at an inopportune time, had told her he was not interested in the least, despite her talents or her colouring.

"I do not believe that to be fully true," she said softly, trying to keep the pain out of her voice as she replayed the conversation she had with the Prince, "He knows of my talents, taught me some of them himself, and he has surely seen me, but our conversations have been less than civil and I thought you may have some counsel on how to change that situation."

She felt she sounded like a child, begging for advice and expecting answers that would make her life return to normal, that would find a way to ease the flair of pain and fear. Normally, she had run to Nanna for that advice, yet here she was facing a woman she barely knew who was not recognised for her kindness or her hospitality. Sigyn was doing her best to keep her veneer of strength, her eyes on this woman's face despite her embarrassment, but she knew all of her hopes were ridiculous. She felt it draining from her, the resolve slipping as she was faced with a problem she was sure no one had a true answer to. If there was an easy way to speak to a man who wanted nothing to do with finding a woman, and whose cruelty had already driven him to mock her so fiercely, she was sure she was not going to find it here in this courtyard.

* * *

><p>"Then we are finished here," Skadi said curtly, her patience for this game at an end. "I have told you what he finds interesting, but do not expect me to hold your hand, little trickster."<p>

She tapped the haft of her spear on the stones once, the sound echoing for a moment about them. "If the Prince has been 'less than civil'," Her tones were mocking, "With you, then I suggest you either choose your times with greater care or look elsewhere for company."

Skadi turned to leave. But she paused half way between Sigyn and the door, leaning on Life-Drinker, her back to the handmaiden. "And someday, you will have to show me what other tricks you can do." And then she was gone, silently vanishing into the halls beyond.

* * *

><p>"Of course," she said quickly to Skadi's curt statement, her eyes dropping to the ground. She felt like a chastised child, the rush of embarrassment and indignant anger colouring her cheeks even darker. She was mocking her, and Sigyn chose not to respond. She did what she always did when being teased, closed herself off and waded through it with all the patience she could muster. She had lost enough of her dignity. She had flinched at the sound of the spear slamming against the stone, but she had kept her eyes downward, unwilling to look the woman in the eye now. She did not move when she heard her starting to leave, wanting to wait until Skadi was gone to let her guard down and breathe.<p>

But she spoke again and Sigyn turned towards her, a look of confusion quickly turning to her regular more neutral expression. She nodded, a small smile touching her lips. Skadi was a harsh woman, but perhaps she was not a cruel one.

"When we meet again, then."

She spoke to the woman's back as she moved back into the building. When she was gone, Sigyn sighed bringing her hand to cover her eyes to dissipate some of the tiredness and the tension. She had done what she could for the morning, caused enough mayhem and anxiety. The rest of the day would have to be devoted to her work, to sitting with Frigga and hoping every moment that Loki would not enter and that the other women would not speak to her.

Gathering her composure, she hurried back inside, playing with the small gold comb in her hand. She would return it to Nanna first, check on her sister and say she found it in the courtyard and worried something had happened. Nanna would never question her, and it would help her begin to make amends.


	5. Chapter 5

The day had been passed in a mild panic, every time the door to the Queen's chambers opened her heart would start pounding, expecting to see the dark younger Prince. The other women did not ask her what was wrong, used to her silence and what she assumed they thought was her odd behaviour. Frigga did not call her aside, and somewhere in the back of her mind Sigyn thought it was because Loki had come to her and told her what a foolish girl she was. It was an impossible thought, knowing how private Loki normally was, but she was frightened, embarrassed and exhausted.

Loki had not made a single appearance, though Thor had come to speak to his mother for a short while. Sigyn had tried her best to ignore the exchange though she found herself now looking at Thor, seeing things in him she would have normally ignored. She was questioning what it was that drew her to Loki, for surely there was nothing he had really done to make her feel such pain for him.

Thor was handsome, tall and blond and attractive in an entirely traditional way. He was personable, generally friendly and generally kind. If she were in his circles and in his company she would probably come to like him and appreciate that kindness and the directness of his thoughts, if for nothing else but the light of his smile. He was what any woman in Asgard would ask for, yet she did not feel any of those feelings towards him.

There was just something so different about Loki, so mysterious and exciting. He was dark and thin, not a warrior in the sense that Asgard prized but strong and dangerous in his own right. He was cunning and though he was not as candid or light as Thor, when he spoke there was always reason behind it. His words were not empty, nor were they wasted. So, she believed, when there were moments of kindness from him, or the rare moments of happiness that flashed across his features, they were all the more powerful. He did not throw compliments to everyone, nor did he take them. It was something special and something powerful and something she had shared with him before.

No matter how hard she tried to find the attractiveness in Thor, to tell herself that there were so many men in Asgard that could bring her real happiness and would never treat her with a smidgen of the scorn Loki had shown the day before, she could not get him out of her mind. She was captured by the thought of him, the hope for him and the idea that she could bring him happiness. She was done, she realized, wanting to have a normal life or a fitting husband. She wanted to be with him, with only him and she would stand for nothing less. Should that not be an option then she would be alone and be happy in that decision, rather than be stuck in a situation that would have no love.

She was resolving herself to that as she walked through the halls to her home, debating what she could say to her father that would make him believe that such a thing were good for her or their family. It would take time and much debate to come up with a suitable reason, but she saw no reason to hurry. Father was content with her job as of now and as far as she knew there were no debts to be settled.

So, there was surprise when she entered her home and found both her Mother and Father seated, waiting for her. It was not unusual to come upon Freya in their home but to have both of them there, wearing twin smiles as she entered immediately told her there was some problem. Her first thought was that someone had seen her attack Nanna and she was hurriedly trying to come up with a reason for her actions when her father stood and bid her come sit at the table.

She obeyed, taking her seat and glancing at her mother, catching sight of Nanna standing against the far wall with an unreadable expression painted across her features.

"Sigyn," Freya began, her voice and smile sweet and smooth, "we have some news for you this night that is quite urgent but you will be pleased. Your Father has found you a husband."

There was silence that followed this statement, silence that reverberated around the room and was amplified by the bright, golden smile on her Mother's face. She felt trapped, unable to breathe and her eyes went right to her sister. Nanna's face was set in a hard stare, as if daring Sigyn to disobey her parents and her duty as their daughter. She looked back to Freya whose smile had faltered the tiniest bit and then to her Father who was frowning. They must have expected joy, expected her thanks for giving her this gift at last. She did not know what Nanna had said, but she was sure it was nothing near to the truth, and she was sure it was Nanna's words that would have driven them to such a decision.

"Speak, daughter," came the voice of Iwaldi and she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to bring a smile to her face. This was a delicate situation. She needed to keep calm, because anything seen as outright opposition was going to bring about his anger and that was the last thing she needed. She just did not think she could stay calm, with so little sleep and so little of her reserve strength left after the day.

"May I ask why this is occurring now, Father?" she said softly, and his frown deepened. He did not like questions, and such matters were normally handed off to her Mother who was better suited for handling his daughters and their whims.

"Do you question my wisdom, Sigyn?"

"Of course not, but I question why this is happening with no warning. Do I even know the man I am to marry?" she was talking quickly, her voice still soft though there was a note of desperate urgency to it.

"You will be married to Volstagg before he week is through. We have made all the preparations necessary."

There was finality in the words, finality in her father's tone of voice and she felt her anger flare up again. She bit her lip to fight back any cruel words but she felt the tears stinging her eyes and she stood, though she did not move towards any member of her family.

"I will not. I will not be married to that...to that oaf and I resent that you would make these preparations for a marriage that must take place within days without first speaking to me. I...I am not some object to be handed off to some fool," she let the words flow from her, looking desperately from her Father to her Mother and finally back to Nanna who still had the same stony expression though there was a flicker of shock in her eyes.

"Sigyn, sit and calm down," Freya insisted, but Sigyn did not listen.

"I will not spend my life making meal after meal after meal for that man and whatever children he would force upon me. I will not."

"You will have no choice!" her father thundered, and she turned to him with a glare she knew would probably have her thrown from the house. She did not care if that was the result of this. She would leave regardless, if they pursued this course for her.

"My life is my own, Father, and I will not marry him. This is not a discussion I will have."

"Not a discussion you will have? What has caused you to turn this way? What has made you think you are not our daughter, that you are the one who makes those decisions?" her Mother's voice was hard now, though there was an undercurrent of softness, as if she understood, "Sigyn, you must sit down and we will discuss this or you will go to your room and we will wait for you to calm and remember just who you speak to."

She stared at her Mother for one moment before she ran to her room, making to close the door shut behind her and finding the way blocked by Nanna's body. She was not going to talk to her. She was never going to speak to Nanna again. Nanna was the enemy and if she thought that Sigyn would be looking on her with kindness when she knew that it was she who had orchestrated this knowing full well that Sigyn's heart would not be in it then she was horribly mistaken. She stalked to her bed, standing in front of it with far too much angry energy to be able to sit.

"You must calm yourself," Nanna said as she shut the door, "Father will not stand for this."

"I have no cares for what Father will stand for, nor do I care for your poisonous words. You should leave my presence," she was staring at the wall, arms folded across her chest, envisioning all of the terrible, nasty things a thought and bit of magical energy could do to the older, blonde woman.

"And so this silly obsession with our Trickster Prince is worth your family and your home? It is worth your chance at an actual family and life? Do not be so foolish, Sigyn. It is unbecoming and unnecessary. You are far more intelligent than this and I have no time for it," there was anger there, but mostly pity and still Sigyn refused to turn around until she felt her sister's hand on her shoulder.

"Do not call him that and do not speak to me of what I should do and what I should be like and how grateful I should be to my sister for finding me such a _lovely_ life. I have not spent all of my days wanting to be a woman who was good for nothing but having children and fixing meals for some man I do not and cannot love. You can never have any knowledge of this, of what this feels like. You found your Balder and you fought for him and they gave in to you. You have what you wish, so why should you feel you can take that away from me?"

She had pulled away from Nanna, had tried to brush the tears from her cheeks, but they were quickly replaced. Her sister looked pained, at least, and she took spiteful comfort in the fact that there may be guilt there. Her rant had some of its desired effect, but it did not change her plight.

"If you do not have time for my foolishness then you should leave, go home to your husband and leave me alone to my fate."

"Sigyn, I cannot leave you like this. You are hysterical."

She laughed, the sound harsh and cruel and something she was all around unused to. Now, Nanna cared for her well-being. Now Nanna would have her be happy or calm, but it was too late for that. Nanna had taken that chance away. She did not want to stay there, in this house with these people. She did not want to stay inside walls that felt like prison.

She took a slow, deep breath, focused herself on her own magic and her wish to be away and left Nanna standing there to explain to her parents that there would be no talking to her that night.

She appeared again in the courtyard she and Skadi had spoke in that morning. It was blessedly empty and she let herself fall against the tree that stood in the middle, sliding down so that she was sitting with her back against the trunk, her head resting against her knees. She had no plans, no way to get out of this and yet she would not go through with it. She had no plans, no cunning tricks she could think of on her own that would save her and so all she could think to do was sit there and try to hold back unbidden tears and hope some brilliant thought would come to her during what could only be another long and sleepless night.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all of your awesome reviews, and I just wanted to drop a note for everyone waiting for more Loki, he's in the next chapter ^^


	6. Chapter 6

"You know you have an admirer."

Loki snapped awake, fingers scrabbling instinctively under the pillow for the dagger he kept there in case an assassin tried their luck, his eyes frantically scanning the dimly lit room for the intruder. The voice had seemed oddly familiar when it had brought him out of the dream he had been having, but surely the only reason to invade his quarters at this hour of the morning – why, the birds were only just beginning to sing – was to assassinate the Prince of Asgard. Who else would... Oh.

"Skadi," the Prince said, his tone a mixture of carefully concealed relief and slight exasperation, his gaze falling on the pale ghostlike form of the Asynjur where she stood by the window, the first light of dawn just allowing him to see the sharp planes of her features, the hint of sharp teeth as she smirked at him. He should have known. For if Skadi came and went from Asgard as she pleased, she was also not a woman to allow such minor trifles as social convention to stop her going where she wished within Asgard itself. He had thought that the array of charms he had placed around the door would ensure that he would be forewarned at least but apparently he had neglected to consider a particular angle.

He would have to correct that in future. He had no objection per se to her unannounced visits – this being the second – but Loki preferred that he was not caught off guard. Hence the aforementioned array of spells meant to warn him of visitors. She, on the contrary, rather enjoyed it and, he suspected, enjoyed the challenge in any case.

It occurred to him then that he had not answered her. He had hoped that word of his impending nuptials had not spread so far about the palace that all the noble sheep were bleating about it, but apparently his hopes were destined to be continually smashed. One of the handmaidens must have spied on his discussion with Mother, for Hel knew that those girls could barely contain their urge to gossip about anything. The marriage of a Prince must have been a fine titbit for those swine to pick over. It also explained why he had heard nothing. Loki had been taking his meals in his chambers or in the library, delving into the law codices in search of an answer to the riddle that vexed him. So far, though, none had presented themselves.

"An admirer," he echoed after a moment, throwing back the fur covers and sliding out of his bed. Skadi's eyes lingered deliberately on his pale torso for a moment before the Prince shrugged on a tunic, but she said nothing. He eyed her for a moment, before turning his back. Five strides across the cool floor and he was by the fireplace. Long fingers waved nonchalantly, a single word fell from his lips and the gently fading embers stoked themselves up, the flames waking again to their master's will. A second languid wave and the braziers joined them, casting a warmer light across Loki's chambers, illuminating the shelves of books, the implements of sorcery, the few tapestries that he permitted to adorn his rooms. Laevateinn rested on his workbench, temporarily abandoned in favour of his research into the law, the sword's blade partially inscribed with the runes that would one day make it a worthy weapon for him. After all, if Thor could have his Mjolnir, then Loki would have a weapon worthy of him as well.

Now able to see somewhat better, he glanced back at Skadi. She was no longer there. It was not entirely unexpected, given her talent for moving silently, but even Loki found her a touch unnerving at times. It was, he thought dryly as he turned around in search of his companion, why he had given her his own private nickname. Most of Asgard called Skadi the Huntress.

Loki simply thought of her as the Draugr – the Wraith.

It was not derogatory, for he held as much respect for the Asynja as he did for Amora. Both were incredibly able in their field of choice, neither entirely held to the norms of Asgard and, the Enchantress' unreturned affection for Thor aside, both were reliable. They might not be his equals, but he found their company much more rewarding than that of his brother's friends, whatever Thor might believe. Of course, he did still have his interests at heart. Whatever Thor might think, Loki knew that his elder brother did not have the temperament to be king. He was a warrior, a fighter, and while Loki knew that Thor would make a great general one day, Thor as King of Asgard would be a disaster. It would be best for all if Loki took their father's throne, for Thor and Asgard both, before he engulfed them in a war with the other eight realms.

As for the huntress, it would be a shame to trap such a creature as a queen.

For a long moment, the two remained quiet. Often, the silent game between the two would go on for much longer as they waited patiently to see who would break first and speak, but Loki's patience was already low and he was in no mood for games. "I am surprised," the younger Prince offered, not bothering to look for her. "I was under the impression that all of the young mares in this kingdom failed to see me past the burning star that is my brother."

His tone remained level as he returned his gaze to the fire, admiring the dancing flames for a moment. As always, he begrudged Thor little and certainly not his place in the hearts of Asgard's daughters. Loki had never sought that place for himself. Even if he had not failed entirely to meet the traditional criteria for good looks in Asgard, being pale, dark of hair and slender next to Thor's golden radiance – and, given his parentage, he had often wondered how he came to be as he was – he had never wanted to be loved by everyone. Mother and Father loved him and that was enough. Loki would settle for being accepted for who he was, not merely as Thor's dark, pale shadow.

The Prince turned away, blinking the afterimage from his vision, to find his guest curled comfortably in one of the chairs before the fire, her posture reminding him of nothing so much as a great cat warming itself. "Equally surprising is that you would find such a tale fascinating enough to break into my quarters to ensure I hear it. Pray tell, what is so special as to bring you to my humble chambers?"

Sat comfortably in the soft chair that Loki had placed for the few guests he entertained here, Skadi's lips curled in a slight smile at the sarcasm that flavoured his tones. In contrast to the Prince, she had no ties of brotherly love or blood to prevent her speaking ill of Thor but Loki preferred other targets for his words and his games, so it was a pleasant surprise to her that he had chosen his brother so swiftly if indirectly. Still, listening to Loki's words, for all their amusing scathing edge, was not why she had chosen to slip past his wards on this occasion.

"Be that as it may, you have one." Skadi replied. "A brave little one at that."

Almost unwillingly, Loki turned a curious gaze on her. "Oh?" Despite himself, he was interested. And it would make an excellent diversion from his troubles. "Tell me more..."

Author's Note: Just so everyone is kept aware, this story is most definitely ongoing. Lives just get busy, especially around the ends of semesters, so please just stick with us as we continue on.


End file.
